


A Pirate's Life

by DracotheDeathEatingCupcake



Series: A Pirate's Life [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Pirate, Attempted Rape (brief), Bittersweet Ending, Character Study, Historically Inaccurate, Lima Syndrome, M/M, Not Dark Dipper, Pirate!Bill Cipher - Freeform, Possessive Bill Cipher, Sailor!Dipper Pines, Slow-ish burn, Stockholm Syndrome, mentions of past rape/non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-28 13:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 120,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5092892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracotheDeathEatingCupcake/pseuds/DracotheDeathEatingCupcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting captured by pirates is terrible.</p><p>Getting captured by the pirate captain Bill Cipher, however, is much, much worse.</p><p>Dipper Pines, great nephew of the merchant Stan Pines, is about to figure this out the hard way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Life at Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, people who are viewing this message. If you are seeing this, clearly you have made the conscious decision to click on this story and give it a try. Either that, or you're a cat who wandered onto a key board and has no idea what they are doing. Either way, I welcome you. 
> 
> So this is my first attempt at an alternate universe story for Gravity Falls! I've written in the universe before, but those stories followed canon and were different to the feel of this story. Writing this has not... been easy for me. I tried my hand at foreshadowing and illusion, which I don't tend to use, and it was weird. Not to mention coming up with an actual new setting for this story to take place. But, I hope I did it well enough. Just mentioning this now; even though this story takes place in the past (around the 18th-19th century, I've not quite decided) I use more modern vernacular. Kind of weird in the sense of the setting, but easier for me than trying to figure out how sailors spoke in the 1700s. 
> 
> This story is a pretty long one. I was originally not going to post anything until I was completely finished, but I just reached 75,000 words and am getting tired of waiting to post. Also, I wanted to get this story out before the series ended. So here we are. 
> 
> Anyway, onto the story! Please, please, please write a comment or review at the end! I'm currently on the rocks about this story, not sure if I like it or not, and I kind of need to know if it's just my perfectionism acting up, or if this story really does suck. This story isn't perfect, I know that, but I tried my best. So if you could take five minutes out of your day to write me some feedback, it would be appreciated. Constructive criticism is appreciated.
> 
> General disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters are owned by Disney, Alex Hirsch, and whoever else owns them. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE (9/2/16): Hey all! So I finally decided to try and edit this monster! Now I was originally gonna wait until I had all the chapters done and post the edited chapters all at once, but I finished editing this chapter and realized that I had finally fixed an issue I had had with this chapter for a while, and felt the need to post it. So, what I'm saying is, basically, don't expect other edited chapters anytime soon. I just started college on Monday and have a feeling I will not have any time in the near future. But I will edit this! So if you see any mistake, or have any issues with this story, please tell me and I'll be more than glad to fix it when the time comes! Thanks!
> 
> UPDATE (12/21/16): Hey! So, nothing new, I just wanted to let everyone know that if you wanted to create a translated version of this story, or if you wanted to write a sequel/prequel/spin-off/whatever, I'm perfectly fine with it! Just give me credit for the original idea and send me a message when it's finished, so that I can check it out. ^-^
> 
> UPDATE (8/9/17): Yo! Again, nothing new, just that the wonderful teardroppeddew, from Tumblr, decided to draw something for this story and I wanted to share it! :-)

  
(Art by [Teardroppeddew](https://teardroppeddew.tumblr.com/))

* * *

Dipper Pines stared out into the open ocean, his mind relaxed as he leaned against the railing of the ship, watching the water lap against the ship's bottom. It was soothing to watch, he thought, the peaceful, playful water shimmering in the morning light.  
  
This was the ocean that he loved. For over a year he had been out at sea, after the death of his parents at age fifteen, and he had seen many different types of the seas. From calm and serene to roaring and stormy, the ocean underwent a multitude of changes days after day.

During his year on board, he found that he disliked the storms the most. On land, storms just raged against the houses, violent but mostly harmless. However on the sea, even the most basic storm could kill. Dipper still had nightmares about some of the worst storms he had witnessed on these waters, the turbulent waves causing the ship to nearly capsize despite his great uncle's best efforts. In fact, just last week they had had one such storm, which had caused major damage to their hull.  
  
However, as he stared out at the tempered sea in that moment, he could see why his great uncle made his living as a merchant, sailing these sparkling waters each and every day. It was beautiful, even with its deadly undertones. It made Dipper long to explore this vast ocean, to chart and map each mile of blue seas that he could find. To go far from here, to find new lands and meet new cultures. To be free, the wind in his hair and an adventure in his heart.  
  
Oh, but that was just wishful thinking. He wasn't meant for life at sea and he knew it. It was a rough life, here on these vast, dark waters, one that would destroy him if he attempted to live it on his own. Chances were- once he was old enough- he'd simply return to land and start a life on his parent's old estate, with a wife and child.  
  
Still, the ocean mesmerized him when it was peaceful and calm. He could barely tear his eyes away from it. And he would miss it, if he ever left. To think, he had only been on board this ship, The Mystery, for little over a year and yet it almost seemed like home. Not quite, but as close as anything could come, after his first home had been so cruelly taken from him.  
  
Dipper could feel himself getting lost in the waves and nearly fell overboard when he heard a brash voice calling his name, loud and abrupt. With widened eyes, Dipper turned from the sea and looked behind him, his heart racing from the mild fright. It calmed, though, when he saw that it was only his great uncle, a scowl on the old man’s face as he marched down the steps to the forecastle deck. While Stan was big and brash, he wasn't anything to fear.  
  
"Dipper! There ya are! 'Ve been lookin' all over for ya, kid," his great uncle stated as he reached him, arms crossed over his chest and a frown on his mouth as he stared down at the boy. Dipper tried not to feel guilty. After all, it wasn't like he worked for the man, not technically at least, so he was allowed to do whatever he wanted unless the captain had a task for him. Which, the boy thought with exasperation, considering the look on the man's face, he most likely did. Well, there went his peaceful day...  
  
"I need you ta quit yer lollygaggin' and get to work. Don't pay ya ta stand around and do nothin', after all," Stan claimed, before brandishing a small mallet and handing it to the boy. Dipper could feel a small groan rising in his throat as he looked at his recent acquisition, already knowing what his great uncle wanted him to do and hating it. There was only one job that required a mallet and that was ship mending. Which was the worst. He always managed to smash his fingers, making them smart for days.  
  
"Grunkle Stan, first of all, you don't pay me anything. You claim that letting me and Mabel stay on your ship is payment enough. And second, why do I have to help fix the ship? You know I'm terrible at it! Besides, can't Soos fix it on his own?" Dipper huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Stan always gave him the worst jobs, but he wasn't going to take it this time. Soos was a capable man; he could patch the hull all by himself. Stan, however, just scowled further and shook his head.  
  
"No dice, kid. I may not pay ya, but I graciously took you an' yer sister in after what had happened to yer parents. I coulda just left ya on yer own somewhere, visitin' ev'ry now and then, but did I? No. So ya can repay me by helpin' fix up the ship when it's broke. No one likes a moocher, kid. An' would ya really leave it up to Soos to fix the ship? We keep gettin' leaks in the wood, faster than he can repair. An' this latest one is pretty bad. If that crack gets any bigger, we might not make it ta shore to get it fixed proper. So I need ya ta go and help Soos patch it up, so we don't die or anythin' like that," Stan retorted, raising an eyebrow at Dipper, who let out a sigh. Well, when he put it that way… fine. He'd do it. Not like he ever had a chance of not doing it, he thought darkly, a pout forming on his lips. Stan always won these arguments of theirs, mostly because Dipper lacked the conviction to stand up for himself. Not to mention that he did feel grateful that the man had taken him and his sister in after what had happened. He didn't even know what they would have done if he hadn't.  
  
"Ugh, fine. I'll do it," he grumbled lightly, rolling his eyes as he pushed off against the railing and began to move. He could hear his great uncle chuckle, before he felt a hand ruffle his already messy and wind-swept hair.  
  
"Yer a good kid, Dipper. Make sure ya finish by sundown, okay? Yer sister won't be happy if ya miss dinner," the man informed, before walking back to the forecastle. Dipper could feel a small smile bloom on his face as he turned to enter the doorway that would lead him to the hold, where he would be able to help patch the leak from the inside. He always liked it when his great uncle complimented him. It made him feel like he wasn't completely messing things up.  
  
As he entered the doorway to the below decks, his eyes squinting to get used to the darkened area, he let out a soft sigh. He really did hate going down to the hold. It always smelled like stale sea water and dead fish down there, which was probably the worst part of living on a ship. While the sea may be beautiful, it certainly didn’t smell it.

Regardless, with the damages they had obtained, it was clear that _someone_  had to help fix the ship and it seemed that he was the only one available. It didn’t matter how he felt about it, it had to get done he thought with a soft sigh. Once his eyes had adjusted, he moved to the ladder that would allow him access to the orlop deck, where he would be able to get to the ladder that would bring him down to the hold. Climbing down, he put the mallet Stan had given him into his waist band so he wouldn't lose hold of it.  
  
Upon reaching the hold, Dipper looked around for the rotund man he was supposed to meet. The darkness was difficult to see through, but as the minutes passed, Dipper found that his eyes were growing more accustom to the dark, allowing him to see in the dark corners where Soos might have been standing. When Dipper finally spotted the man, organizing the pieces of wood they'd be using to patch the leak, Dipper felt a minute amount of achievement before he headed towards the man, with only the mildest of hesitance.  
  
"Hey Soos," Dipper said as he reached the man, a hand raised in greeting, "Captain Stan said you needed some help with repairing the ship?"  
  
"Oh, hey mate! Heh, yeah. I thought I could fix it on my own, but more leaks kept poppin' up just when I thought I was done! So I thought some help would be useful. Glad to see Captain Pines sent you though, mate. Won't be so bad with the two of us workin' together, huh?" Soos replied with a genial grin, nudging Dipper lightly in the shoulder. Dipper was grateful, knowing that Soos knew that he hated working down here and was doing his best to make the best of the situation.

That was what Dipper liked the most about the rotund man, he thought; the man always looked on the bright side, like Mabel did. It was hard to begrudge him. Plus, he was one of the few people to welcome him and his sister with open arms when they had first arrived at age fifteen, heartbroken and desolate. It had helped a lot when getting used to their new life, the friendly face a relief to see after so much unexpected and horrifying change. So even though he still hated fixing the ship up, at least he would be in good company, he thought favorably, a small smile creeping onto his face.  
  
"Yeah, of course. So, what do you want me to do?" he asked, grabbing the mallet his great uncle had given him. Following his fellows' instructions, Dipper began patching the ship, laughing and joking with Soos as they worked. It was difficult work, but with a friend like Soos it didn't seem that bad. He listened carefully as the man spoke of the paramour he had waiting for him on land, whom he wrote to as often as he could. Dipper smiled as he listened, feeling glad for his friend. If anyone deserved happiness, it was Soos.  
  
Time passed and before he knew it the crack in the hull was patched as well as they could fix it and their work was done. As predicted, he had smashed his thumb no less than three times and had more splinters than was probably healthy, but he felt pride as he looked at the patched wood. Back at home he had hardly ever done physical work, so it always filled him with pride when he saw something he had done with his own two hands.  
  
"See you later, mate. I'm gunna stay down here for a bit and make sure nothin' else breaks, just to be safe, ya know? Say hi to Mabel for me!" Soos said, waving to the boy as he got up to leave. Dipper smiled down at him and nodded.  
  
"Got it. See you later, Soos."  
  
With that, Dipper moved to the ladder and began climbing, relieved to be away from that dark and gloomy place. While he may have enjoyed the time spent with Soos, he hated being stuck down there in the damp and cold. It always depressed him. As he reached the upper deck, he noticed that it was nearly sunset, which meant that dinner should be ready soon. He paused then, wondering if he should continue back to his previous spot to watch the sun set, or if he should head down to the mess hall early and wait in there. His decision was made up for him when he heard the dinner bell ring, reminding everyone that food would be served soon. With a shrug, Dipper headed back down the ladder and made his way to the mess hall, scrunching up against the wall to avoid the other sailors who were headed to the same place.  
  
Reaching the mess hall quickly, Dipper took his usual seat beside his twin, smiling at her in greeting. When she noticed him, she grinned brightly.  
  
"Dipper! There you are! Grunkle Stan said that you were working down below, helping Soos patch the ship. I was worried you'd miss dinner again, like last time. Did you finish, or are you simply taking a break?" she asked, bouncing up and down slightly from her general excitement at life, causing a soft smile to form on his face. It was nice to see. After what had happened with their parents, it had killed him to watch his twin fall into a depression, her eyes dim and her liveliness crippled. For months she had been silently broken, darkness prevailing inside her. She was mostly better now, but it still was wonderful to see her smile. He had missed it, during those first few terrible months.  
  
"Yeah, it didn't take as long as expected. The damage was great, but Soos and I managed to patch it well enough. We'll be able to make it to port, at least. We'll probably be at port for a couple of days getting it fixed, though. It looked pretty bad to me," he said with a shrug. Mabel lit up at the news, her grin widening as she began bouncing again.  
  
"Oooh! Goody! I had been needing to go to the tailor to get some new dresses, since all my current ones are all tattered and gross. And how could I possibly impress handsome sailors if I look all gross?" she asked, eyes wide at the thought. Dipper felt a laugh burst out at his sister's words, shaking his head slightly in amusement at her antics. Mabel had always been obsessed with getting a husband, even when they were children. She loved romance; loved love. He assumed she got it from their parents, who had fallen in love at first sight, despite their class difference. Dipper didn't quite get it, as he had always thought love should take time to form and grow, but he would never begrudge his sister her romantic side.  
  
As they waited for everyone to arrive and for dinner to start, they chatted lightly about what they would do while on shore, Mabel going on about how she would find her handsome sailor one day. Dipper mostly just listened, laughing at the right moments and nodding in agreement when she asked him a question. It was only when she began badgering him about what he'd do while at port that he confessed he didn't have much planned, simply thinking that he'd go to a book shop and look for books that had been made while they had been out at sea. He felt his face flush, however, when Mabel began teasing him about it, saying he was so boring and predictable. He knew she didn't mean it to be cruel, but it still stung. He couldn't help it that he loved books. He wished she wouldn't tease him about it.  
  
Before he could reply back, the last crew member had shown up and dinner finally began, everyone getting the same amount of gruel. Dipper tried to put his twin's teasing out of his mind as he poked at the watery food, turning his nose up at it. It sure was a good thing that they were going to port soon, he thought as he ate the gruel with a grimace. Their supplies were running low and this meal just showcased that. Dipper briefly wondered, as he always did, if his great uncle was getting better food than this up in his cabin. He never was quite sure. While his great uncle was a selfish man, wanting the best things that he could possibly get, Dipper had to admit that he did tend to be fair to his crew, never taking more than his fair share. He had a heart of gold, as Mabel always said. He, personally, wasn't quite sure of that, but then Mabel always did tend to see the good in people. Dipper was more practical and knew that some people had nothing good in them. That they might as well not be human at all.  
  
As dinner continued, so did their conversation. Dipper was more subdued than his twin, as he always was, but he didn't mind listening to her rambling about whatever she was interested in that day. As long as she wasn't teasing him, he didn't mind getting pushed to the background in their discussions.

One thing that interested him, he began to notice as the dinner progressed, was the whispers that were going on around the two. Usually the other sailors were loud and robust, their guffaws happy and boisterous.  Today, however, the sailors were quiet, softer, and they kept shooting glances at his sister and him. It made Dipper feel uneasy, his mind and body on alert, but he did his best to push his fears out of his heart. They probably just had a grievance against Stan and didn’t want the two of them to overhear and potentially report it back to the old man. Not wanting it to bother him any more than it already had, he tuned back into Mabel’s monologue and nodded when appropriate. If it was important, he was sure he would hear about it eventually. After all, sailors weren’t exactly the most secretive bunch. It was hard to keep a secret while stranded in the middle of the ocean with a handful of other people around.  
  
It wasn’t long before their food was done and he and Mabel got up and left the mess hall early, to let the rest of the crew talk amongst themselves without the fear of the captain's great niece and nephew overhearing, his worries fading as he left the environment. He followed his sister through the ship to their private room, something their great uncle had gifted them upon their arrival on The Mystery. Normally they would have been stuffed into the crew's shared quarters below deck, but Stan had cleaned out an old storage room near his own cabin and gave them that. He was infinitely grateful to the man for doing so, as the shared quarters were vile; so many men jammed into the same room left for an unpleasant living space. The smell alone made him gag the few times he had been down there. Even sharing with his sister was better than living there.  
  
Entering the room, he walked over to his bed and picked up the book that he had left there from that morning, picking up where he had left off, letting his twin do whatever she wanted to do while he relaxed. The book he was reading was one he had read numerous times before, a journal about the stars and constellations, but he loved rereading it. His great uncle had given it to him during those first few months, to try and make him feel better, and it had helped greatly. Besides, he loved the sky and stars. The fact he had part of the Ursa Major on his forehead had always sparked his curiosity about the vast unknown that was their sky, even as it had branded him a freak amongst the upper class. His sister had always teased him about his interest in the sky, but he didn't care. It was helpful to know, especially now that they were on a ship at sea. Celestial navigation was key to knowing exactly where you were while on the vast ocean.  
  
A while passed as he read- his mind focussed completely on the words he was reading- before he felt his bed dip to the side a bit, his sister lying down beside him and laying her head on his shoulder.  
  
"Hey, little brother," she said with a grin, as she knew he hated that nickname of hers. He wasn't even shorter than her anymore, having grown a lot in the past year, but she still insisted on calling him that. He rolled his eyes at her, before continuing his reading. He did his best to ignore the girl, still a touch sore about her earlier- and current- teasing, not really wanting to entertain her at the moment. However, when she began calling his name with varying degrees of pitch while nudging his shoulder with her own, he knew that he wouldn't be able to ignore her any longer. With a long-suffering sigh, he bookmarked his page and turned to face his twin, an eyebrow raised.  
  
"What do you want, Mabel?" he questioned, a hint of exasperation in his voice. She ignored it and grinned up at him.  
  
"Well, I was thinking," she began slowly, her face alight with glee, which made Dipper begin to feel apprehensive, knowing his sister enough to know that that look never boded well for him, "your clothes are getting a bit tattered as well, right? And with your recent growth, none of your trousers fit you right, all of them too short. Soooo, I was thinking that while we're at port, you could join me at the tailor!" she exclaimed, a grin wide on her face. Dipper, on the other hand, groaned loudly.  
  
"Ah, Mabel, come on. You know I hate the tailor; they always poke me with their needles. Besides, what I currently have is fine!" he insisted. When his sister shot him an unimpressed look, clearly not buying his words, he grimaced and looked down at his clothing. Okay, so maybe it was a bit old… and worn... and full of holes… but it was perfectly fine! As she kept her stare on him, he grimaced again and conceded that she, maybe, had a point.  
  
"Come on, Dipper. Your clothes look like you stole them from a vagabond, and not a particularly clean one. How on earth are you going to find yourself a good wife if you look like a… a mangy sailor?! No one likes mangy sailors, Dipper. No one," she stressed, eyes wide as she sat up, staring down at him. "And don't you want to get married one day?"  
  
Dipper let out a sigh at her words, sitting up as well, running a hand through his hair.  
  
"Mabel, you know I'm not interested in finding a wife right now, so I highly doubt that that would matter. And honestly, Mabel, I don't look that bad. But, if you want me to, I'll go with you and find myself some new clothes, okay? But only a few shirts and pants; I'm not getting as many as last time," he warned, knowing his sister well enough that if he didn't specify amount, she'd get him ten shirts and trousers, minimum. It was a good thing that they had the money their parents had left them, otherwise they'd have a hard time paying for all the things Mabel liked to buy. Their room was filled with frivolous things she had found and 'had to have' while on shore.  
  
He tried not to wince when his sister let out a happy squeal, bouncing up and down with excitement. "Yay! Thanks, Dipper! I promise that you won't regret it, okay? Oooh, this is going to be so much fun!" she exclaimed, before bouncing off his bed and over to her own, playing with some scrap pieces of fabric she had, humming a sea shanty that he was positive was not appropriate for her ears. With a sigh, he shook his head with fond exasperation and laid back down, picking his book up once more and flipping back to the page he had left off. Mabel sure could be a handful, but he honestly wouldn't have it any other way. She was the bright light in his life, the one good thing he had left. If shopping for clothes with her made her happy, he'd do it, even if he despised it. He'd do anything for her, to keep her smile on her face.  
  
So Dipper went back to his reading while Mabel did whatever it was she that interested her. Dipper wasn't sure how much time had passed in their comfortable silence before a knock sounded on their door, which opened a second later to show their great uncle standing there.  
  
"Oh! Hey Grunkle Stan!" Mabel chirped, grinning up at the elder man. Stan gave her a tight smile back, before walking inside their room, closing the door behind him. Dipper felt confused as he saw the serious look on the man's face, as he looked at them.  
  
"Is something wrong?" Dipper asked, sitting up on his bed slowly, his mind suddenly returning to the mess hall and the solemn faced sailors staring at his sister and him, his fear returning in a slow trickle. He saw Mabel do the same out of the corner of his eye, a concerned frown on her face. The elder man heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, before taking a seat on the single chair in their room. Dipper felt concern and mild fear flood though him as he saw the tired look in his great uncle's eyes.  
  
"I got some news from th' watchman earlier. Bad news," Stan started, before pausing and looking at them carefully. Dipper felt his concern mount as he wondered what the news was. What was so bad that his great uncle looked almost afraid? A moment passed in tense silence, before the man spoke again. "'Parently, at around noon today, our watchman spotted a pirate ship off our starboard side."  
  
It took a second for Dipper to comprehend the words, but when he did he felt his heart freeze as the onslaught of fear that flooded him squeezed it harshly. He distantly heard his sister let out a soft gasp and he turned to face her with concern. He could see that she was pale white, her eyes wide as saucers as she stared at their great uncle with horror, the man looking back at her with concern. Well, at least that explained the fear he had seen in Stan's expression, he thought faintly.  
  
"Pirates?" he whispered, once his fear had faded enough to allow him to speak. "It's not… not _him_ , is it?" he questioned, needing to know. When he saw his great uncle shake his head, he felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest. Not much of one, but enough that he could finally _breathe_.  
  
"No. Don't think so. Accordin' ta the watchman, this ship had a different colored flag," the man explained, eyes and voice softer than the boy was used to, his natural gruffness taking a backseat to the concern and love the man had for his niece and nephew. Dipper watched out of the corner of his eye as some color returned to his sister's face, the same relief he felt flooding her as well. She still looked upset, though.  
  
"Do you know whose ship it is?" Mabel asked softly, curling her body into a small ball, which made him want to go over to her and take her fear away, hating to see her so small. Instead, Dipper turned to his great uncle and watched with confusion as a dark and distant look passed over his great uncle's face, before smoothing out into an expressionless mask.  
  
"We have an idea, but we're not sure yet. I jus' thought ya kids might wanna know, so yer not surprised if ya see any ships on the horizon or if the crew spills the beans. But we're gonna be at port in a few days' time, so with any luck we'll pass 'em by without any conflict," their great uncle reassured, though Dipper could see the concern and worry that still resided in their elder's eyes. Not knowing what to say, how to respond, Dipper nodded once with his understanding, Mabel doing the same. Stan looked at them for a moment longer, before nodding back.  
  
"Alright. Uh, sleep well. I'll see ya in the mornin' fer yer daily chores," the man said tersely, before standing awkwardly and exiting their room with a flip of his long coat. Dipper let out a long breath of air, leaning back against his headboard. It had been a while since their last run-in with a pirate ship, but it never really got any easier. Especially for his sister. He looked over towards the girl and saw her curled in a ball, her arms and head tucked inside her dress. The sight made his heart clench and he got up from his bed to sit beside her.  
  
"Hey, Mabel… come on, it's not that bad. Grunkle Stan said that it's not him, so it's going to be fine. We don't have to be worried, okay?" he said soothingly, placing his hand gently on his twin's shivering back. He waited for a moment for her to respond, his concern mounting when she didn’t. Regardless, he plowed on, knowing that he couldn’t leave her alone like this.  
  
"Well, hey, look on the bright side, we're going to be at port in a few days! We're going to the tailor and getting new clothing, remember? And I'm sure a lot of handsome sailors will be there that you can flirt with," he tempted, hoping it would work and that she would brighten up. It killed him to see her so small, so afraid. He didn't blame her, but he still hated it.

As the minutes passed, he felt his heart sinking as she still didn't reply and had been about to give up hope of raising his twin's spirits, when she looked up at him from the collar of her dress, her eyes wide and watery.  
  
"I-I guess…" she sniffed, trying to give him a weak smile but failing in the end. He smiled softly back, even as he felt his heart breaking at her sad eyes. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer to his side.  
  
"Don't worry, Mabel. Everything's going to be alright. I won't let anyone hurt you, okay? Not again," he promised softly, knowing that he'd never let her down again. He'd protect her even if it killed him. He felt her nod slowly against his side, still shivering lightly. He stayed there for a while, holding his sister as she shook, but eventually he got up and returned to his bed. He had considered staying with his twin in her bed that night, like he had done for a month after their parents had died, but he decided against it. It was improper and would just be awkward.  
  
"Good night, Mabel," he whispered across the room as he turned the lantern in their room off, shrouding the room in darkness.  
  
"'Night, Dipper," she replied softly, her voice far too quiet for a girl who once didn’t know the meaning of the word whisper. He tried not to feel the concern that was threatening to drown him, but it was hard. She was his twin; he'd always be concerned about her. Especially where pirates were concerned.  
  
Sleep eluded him for a while after that, his mind shifting through thought after thought. Even after he heard his sister finally nod off, he found he couldn't. He always had trouble sleeping at night, but today it was even worse.  
  
Dealing with pirates was never fun. Over the past year, they had only had three run-ins with the vile monsters, but each time had been dreadful. Grunkle Stan had managed to outwit and outfight the pirate captains each time, allowing them to get away each time without any casualties, but it still left him shaking at night while his sister practically shut down. It had been four months since their last meeting with pirates, and he had been hoping that there wouldn't be another. Perhaps their luck had finally run out.  
  
When sleep finally found him, he dreamed of fire, burning flesh, and the glint of light on a sharp blade.  
  
Needless to say, he didn't get much rest that night.


	2. A Day on Shore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings! Clearly, if you're seeing this, then you've decided to keep going with this story. That, or you're that cat again. Either way, great job! 
> 
> Wow, I'm honestly astounded at the reception this got, on AO3 at least. Over 30 kudos in one day! And your comments were great. I thank everyone who took the time to comment or review last chapter, they all meant a lot to me. 
> 
> Now, onto a couple things I forgot to mention yesterday... So, this story is unbetaed. Any mistakes you see are mine and mine alone. If you do see anything, feel free to tell me. I read through my work extensively (perfectionist, here) but I do miss a lot of things. So feel free to mention if you see anything wrong, especially if it's a misused word. I write this story on my iPod in the middle of the night, and autocorrect is not always my friend. The second thing I wanted to say is that I'm planning on updating this story on a weekly basis, after the fourth chapter. Basically, I'll post the third chapter tomorrow, then wait a couple days before posting the fourth chapter on Sunday, and then I'll go to a weekly schedule of posting every Sunday, since that's the easiest day for me. Just wanted to mention that so no one starts thinking I'm posting daily for this entire story. I mainly just want to get the first chapters out as soon as possible, since they're all kinda connected.
> 
> And now, with that out of the way, onto the story! Just a warning, this chapter is the longest chapter in this story. It's 9,700 words, while most chapters max at around 4,000-5,000-ish. Just so you know.
> 
> Make sure you review/comment! They help me know that people do enjoy this story, which makes me feel less anxious. So if you have the time, I appreciate anything you have to give. :-)

Life after the news of the pirate sighting had been tense for Dipper. The whole crew knew, since not much could be kept secret while on a ship in the middle of the ocean. Everyone was talking about it, in whispers and mutters, as the crew knew that Captain Pines didn't approve of gossip on his ship.

But that didn't stop Dipper from hearing their muttered conversations. From hearing their speculations on whose ship it could be. None of them seemed particularly worried, but it left him on edge to be constantly reminded of the threat. They felt safe in the knowledge that Stan was an excellent fighter, that they would beat whoever possibly boarded them, but he wasn't so sure. And that left him with a constant unease that refused to cease. And that's not even mentioning the worry he felt for his twin.

His great uncle still expected him to do his daily chores, though. Each morning at the crack of dawn, he and Mabel would awaken and help the rest of the morning crew get the ship ready to sail for the day. He would help hoist the sails, or swab the deck, or do any other small task his great uncle had on hand. It was difficult to work with the crushing worry he felt, but he had no choice. Stan would crucify him if he didn't help out.

It was times like this that he hated being on a ship in the middle of open sea. There was nowhere to run if they got attacked or ambushed by the pirates. Nowhere to hide. Trying to go about life like everything was normal was difficult, because everything was not okay for him. The news of pirates had turned his life around quickly, and he was struggling to pretend he was alright.

The absolute worst thing about the past several days, though, was how morose Mabel was. He saw it in how she held herself, saw the panic and fear she felt. She did her best to hide it from the rest of the crew, but around him she let her walls down and he saw how upset she truly was. He just wished he knew how to help her, how to make things better for her.

The only good thing was that they were scheduled to reach port by morning. He was glad. While on land he could find a way to distract himself. He and his sister had their plans to shop for clothing, but he could always look in the book shop once they were done. That would be a good distraction, he guessed. And Mabel loved being on land, loved looking at the sights. Hopefully being at port would raise her spirits.

But, that was later. At the moment, he was sitting out on the starboard side of the poop deck, watching the horizon with mistrusting eyes. Land was in sight on the port side, but he still didn't feel safe. After all, pirates did attack port towns sometimes. One could never trust a pirate to not attack when they had the chance. Pirates were scum and would do anything for monetary gain. He had learned that ages ago.

Dipper hated pirates with every fiber in his body. He had always heard tales while growing up about pirates, about their horrible deeds and their viscous lifestyle, and they had left him terrified. And then, after what had happened… Pirates would always be something to fear, something to hate. He could feel that fear and hatred bubbling in his gut as he looked out at the horizon, his teeth gritting.

He didn't know how much time had passed, his thoughts turning darker as fear flowed through his body, before he heard a feminine voice call his name, breaking his train of thought. Despite himself, he could feel his mood brighten at the sound, some of his worry melting away as he turned and gave a small, if a bit tense, wave towards the redheaded woman whom his great uncle had employed despite the superstition of having a woman aboard a ship. The woman was an excellent helmsman- or should he say helms _woman_ \- and Stan claimed that he didn't regret picking her up during a stop in Ireland all those years ago.

"Hey Wendy," he called, standing up to face her. For a while when he had first come on board, he had had a small infatuation with her, but it had faded when he had learned she saw him more as a friend than anything else. He still felt a small tug in his heart when he saw her, not as big as it had originally been, but always present. But then, she had been a big contributor in helping him get over the pain of his parents; of course it was hard to get over her.

The woman grinned at him and punched him lightly on his shoulder once she had reached him, her version of a greeting. He grinned back, finding that being in her presence was already helping calm the nerves that had been plaguing him. She had always had that effect on him, her cool persona soothing his nerves and making things seem so much simpler. It had helped him escape the pain of his parent's deaths, back when he had first arrived on board and it had still been fresh in his mind. It was part of why he liked her so much.

"Hey. You excited about being able to go to port? Man, it's been so long since I was able to properly stretch my legs. I cannot _wait_  until we reach land," the woman claimed with a grin, leaning her back against the railing of the ship. He grinned back up at her, nodding his agreement.

"I know, right? It feels like it's been ages since we last were at port. I know Mabel was excited to talk to some of those sailors she likes obsessing over," he stated as he copied Wendy's position, trying to look as impressive as she did while doing it, but most likely failing miserably. He heard her laugh at his words, and it made his muscles relax a bit.

"Yeah, Mabel seems like the kind that would be excited about that. What about you? You got any plans for what you're going to do while ashore?" She asked, smiling down at him. He could feel his face heat up at her attention, her smile doing terrible things to his insides. He didn't think he'd ever be used to her focus being entirely on him.

"Uh, well Mabel and I are planning on getting some new clothes. Mabel's idea, not mine. And after that, I was kind of thinking of finding a book shop and getting a few new books," he shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, trying not to feel too embarrassed about his less than impressive plans.

"Oh man, that sounds lame," Wendy laughed, shaking her head lightly at him. Dipper could feel his cheeks flush bright red at her words, embarrassment flooding through him despite himself. He was about to defend himself, somehow, when she continued. "Hey, you know what? You should join me and some of the guys at the tavern. It'll be fun. More fun than simply going shopping for clothes and books," the woman claimed, bumping against his shoulder lightly. Dipper stared at her, his eyes widening and his mind freezing as he comprehended her words. His previous embarrassment was forgotten in light of her request. Was she asking him… to go out with her? Yeah, he knew it was just as a friendly get together and that other members of the crew would be there, but it was still great. Even if he had given up on the hope of them ever being together, he still enjoyed her company and was rejoicing that she actually wanted to spend time with him too. She was one of the few who did, on this ship. There was just one problem, though…

"But... But I'm not old enough," he stammered, his heart sinking, knowing that his great uncle would kill him if he went to a tavern. Wendy raised an eyebrow at him.

"So? Live a little, man. You're almost seventeen, aren't you? You can come to a tavern if you want. I mean, no one's saying you have to drink or anything. Just hang out with me and some of the guys. And it won't even matter, no one actually cares about how old you are or anything. It won't kill you to have some fun, will it?" She questioned, smirking down at him. Dipper thought it over, his heart thudding just a bit too hard. Well, perhaps he could go out for a little… as long as he didn't drink, his uncle shouldn't be that upset, right? And, it would help get his mind off his anxiety about the pirates. Plus, Wendy. So, even though he had his reservations, he found himself nodding, his insides giddy as he did. Wendy grinned brightly at him, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

"Great! Well, I'd better get back to work, since Captain Pines probably wants me to take over the wheel again soon. Meet me tomorrow night at nightfall and we'll go to the tavern together, okay?" She asked, to which Dipper responded with a nod. She grinned down at him once more, before pushing off against the railing and sauntering over towards the helm. He felt his heart stutter as he watched her go, even though he knew he shouldn't feel that way about her anymore. Just as he was about to turn away from her, to look back out at the sea again, he heard Wendy call back.

"Oh, and Dipper!" With a startled blink, he turned back to face her, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "Don't worry about the pirates, alright man? I noticed that you've been looking kinda nervous ever since the sighting, all jumpy whenever someone mentions them. So just remember, chances are they won't even bother us. And, even if they do try and board us, your great uncle will be sure to fight them off. In all my years of being on this ship, never has a pirate even come close to beating him. So you don't have to worry, alright?" She reassured with a smile, her green eyes looking at him with kind sympathy. He felt his throat go dry, and all he could do was nod dumbly in response. She accepted it though, and left for real that time, giving him one last smile and a backwards wave. Dipper stared after her for a few moments, heart in knots, before looking back out at the sea. He sat down slowly, and he thought through what she had told him.

He knew that her words were true. He knew that his great uncle was a fearsome fighter, having years of sword fighting experience. He even thought that the man might have been part of the navy, once. But still, even as he acknowledged this truth, he could still feel worry fill his gut. After all, pirates were tricky, and their great uncle was getting old. One wrong move and… he shook himself quickly before he could finish the thought, scowling at himself. No. He couldn't think like that. They would be fine. Wendy was right; chances were, the pirates wouldn't even board them in the first place. It wasn't like their vessel looked very impressive from the outside, the run down and worn wood a deterrent to most pirates. So he shouldn't let it bother him. He should instead focus on good things, like the upcoming trip to shore, and his outing with Wendy and her friends. He couldn't let pirates ruin everything for him, not any more than they already had.

So he continued to sit in his spot, watching the sun as it moved across the sky, forcing his mind off of pirates and simply watching the vast heavens. When the sun started to sink below the horizon, the setting sun creating a beautiful sight over the water, he heard the dinner bell ring. With one last, regretful glance back at the sunset, Dipper got up from his seated position and moved through the ship, down to the mess hall. Part of him wanted to just stay where he was, to watch the stars come out and shine, but he knew he needed food. And that that should take precedent over watching the sky.

The trip down to the mess hall didn't take long, and he was soon taking his usual seat beside his twin, giving the still too quiet girl a tired smile. He felt his heart sink when she didn't return it, but he was hardly surprised. Ever since that night their great uncle had informed them of the pirate sighting, she had been subdued, her usually vivaciousness dulled greatly. It wasn't as bad as it had been during those first few months, but it was still pretty bad and he had no idea what to do for her. How he could make it better.

Watching her be like this was a constant reminder that no matter how much he despised pirates, his twin loathed them infinitely more. For a good reason, too. What they had been through at the hands of pirates, her in particular… he didn't blame her for her worry and fear. He just wished he could help her, somehow. Seeing her like this reminded him of his failures as a brother. He was meant to protect her, to keep her safe, yet he had failed and now here she was, silent and hurting. And he couldn't even make things better for her, because he was useless.

Despite his own depressing thoughts, he still did his best to cheer his twin up, commenting on the clouds he had seen and the dolphins that had passed the ship earlier. After a while he even tried striking up a conversation about what they would do at port in the morning, but all he got from her was half-hearted shrugs and single word replies. He felt hopeless as he watched her. God, he hoped that she perked up during their outing tomorrow. Mabel had always loved being on land, to be free of the confinement of the ship and be able to wander around the port towns. It had always been like an adventure to her. If she was this listless tomorrow… he prayed that she would be alright. That she'd be able to get over her inner pain, at least for long enough that she could enjoy her trip onshore.

Once they had finished eating, he got up, Mabel following his lead, and went back to their room to get ready for the night. Despite the fact that he wanted to try and get his twin to feel better, he forced himself to sit on his bed and read while she got ready for bed. It was a routine of theirs and he didn't want to break it if she didn't want him to. It was surreal, though, to not hear her chattering at him, for her not to be humming or singing lightly under her breath. No matter how many times something like this happened, after pirates had attacked or they had heard news of them, it never got any easier to witness.

Sleep didn't come any easier that night than it had the night before, but eventually he managed to succumb. The same nightmare that always plagued him returning with a vengeance.

Fire. Death. The glint of a blade.

The inability to escape.

~XoxoxoxoxoxoX~

Dipper woke with the sun the next morning, groaning softly as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He felt exhausted from his nightmare the night before, but he was used to that by now. Looking over at his twin, who was also waking up, he sent her a small, tentative smile. She returned it weakly, shuffling off her bed a second later to get ready for the day, but he felt his heart lift. That smile was more than he had gotten in days, and he could feel hope fill him that maybe she was doing better now. It varied, sometimes, how long it took her to get over her bouts of depression. Sometimes it lasted a couple days, sometimes it lasted weeks. He hoped that this would be a bout that had only lasted briefly. Mabel deserved to enjoy herself while onshore today. And he also hoped that she wouldn't just fake it, like she sometimes did. That only led to her crashing eventually, which was worse than her lethargy.

"Hey Mabes. You ready for today?" He asked her as he got up and got dressed. Mabel shrugged, her hands gripping her underclothes absently, not giving any other reply. Dipper tried not to sigh as he turned from her so she could change into her dress in peace. So much for her feeling better, he thought morosely.

They finished dressing quickly and were soon ready to leave for breakfast. Before he left, though, he made sure to get some gold from the pile they kept hidden deep in the trunk in their wardrobe. He estimated that fifty gold pieces should be more than enough for not only the clothes, but for whatever else he and Mabel might want to get onshore. He placed it in the wallet he kept in his satchel before following Mabel out of their room and down to the Mess Hall.

Breakfast was subdued, like it had been for the past several days, even though everyone in the mess hall was buzzing with excitement. It was a mild comfort to see his twin brighten slightly when Soos came over and spoke with them, joking around and making Mabel laugh a bit. That had him smiling even as they went out onto the deck for their daily chores.

They did their daily chores as they always did, the same drudgery it always was, but he could practically feel the energy in the air. They had been traveling across the ocean for weeks now, far from any port as they returned from a far off land to get rare spices, so everyone was ecstatic to be on land soon. And even with all the worry and concern Dipper felt, not only for his twin but also about the pirates, he couldn't help but feel the same energy flow through him. Even Mabel could feel it, he noticed as he watched her brighten even more as they got closer and closer to the port, her eyes less dull than they had been for days, which only made his heart lighten further as they got closer to their destination.

It was around mid-morning when they finally docked at port, a cheer ringing out amongst the crew as the anchor was lowered into the water. Dipper could feel his insides squirming as he waited beside his sister for the gangplank to be lowered so that they exit the ship. He could even see Mabel smiling as she waited, timidly at first, but getting bigger as the gangplank was finally lowered and they walked onto the dock. He bumped against her shoulder gently and smiled at her hesitantly, which she finally returned with her own hesitant grin. Dipper could still see the worry in her eyes, but she was so much better than she had been even that morning. He was starting to believe that maybe this trip to shore wouldn't be as bad as he had feared. Maybe they wouldn't meet with the pirates. Maybe everything would work out. Maybe.

The port that they were docked at was actually one they had been to once before, a few months previous. It was a pretty big town, if he recalled correctly, and it had been interesting to wander the streets which had been full of life and cheer. It wasn't like the neutral ports that Stan occasionally brought them to, which were full of fear and mistrust, ridden with crime and violence. This one was an actual town, filled with people trying to make an honest living.

As they walked down the dock, the rest of the crew who had gotten first land time walking beside them, he smiled as he felt the relief at being ashore. He could see Mabel's hesitant grin bloom brighter as they progressed, the cheer and high spirits of the crew around them affecting her. He could feel a weight lift from his heart as he saw it, knowing that while she might still be feeling off inside, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. At least she would be able to enjoy today, he thought optimistically. He may hate shopping, but his sister adored it and it would be devastating if her day was ruined because of her depression.

When they finally reached the land, the wood of the dock turning into hard cobbled stone, Mabel let out a soft, happy sound as she twirled slightly. She turned to him then and gave him a smile, even if it was just a touch forced.

"So, Bro-Bro, you ready for some time at the tailor?" She questioned, her smile turning into a more natural smirk, her eyes bright with excitement. Dipper, not wanting to ruin her mood by asking if she was really feeling better now like part of him wanted, let out a fake groan, though he made sure to smirk back at her. If she was happy to be back on shore, he wasn't going to ruin that by reminding her of her previous lethargy.

"Ready when you are, sis," he replied, holding his arm out for her to take, like he had been taught as a child. She giggled as she placed her hand gently on his arm, before grabbing his wrist and practically dragging him down the street in her quest to find a tailor. He let out a startled laugh as she darted between the sailors that were milling around, her eyes searching for a store they could enter, her own face alight with a grin. Oh, he loved seeing his sister like this, so carefree and happy. He always missed it during her down periods, no matter how long or short they were.

As they darted around, Dipper took the time to drink in the sights around him, watching the milling sailors they were passing laugh and grin at their companions. Looking at the various storefronts around him, the bright, warm colors and the weathered stone. He could feel himself grin as they moved, could feel a sort of giddiness rise in him at the sights. Oh how he loved coming to port, especially with his sister. It was an adventure, filled with wonder and intrigue. The people, the shops, even the illicit, clandestine meetings between various people in dark alleyways. He loved it, and was glad he was here. His worries were gone, even if only for the moment, and he was grateful.

When they finally found a tailor shop, his sister letting out an excited gasp, Dipper absently hoped that whoever owned the store would be able to create their clothes within a few days, since that was around how long they probably had at this port. He knew that clothes could take a while to make, but he was hoping that it wouldn't take too long, since they only wanted a few simple outfits. If not, they would probably have to get it mailed to them, which had the potential of taking weeks or even months. Or, there was always the chance that the tailor would have some pre-made clothing in their store that they could get and have tailored to them, if they found something that looked nice. The only downside to that was that pre-made clothes weren't as custom as clothes that were made from scratch.

His sister dragged him over to the shop as quick as she could, opening the door with a soft grin on her face as she took in the rows and rows of fabric and clothing. Ever since they had been children, Mabel had loved clothing and sewing, always dragging their parents to the tailor whenever she could. She had used to have piles of fabric and cloth in her room back at home. She didn't sew much anymore, not since their parent's death, but she still loved to examine fabrics and threads, like she currently was doing. After all, she always had to have the absolute best fabric possible for her clothing. He could feel himself chuckle as he watched her, as engrossed as she was in her perusal. He was distracted a moment later by the seamstress who presumably owned the shop, who had come up to him and asked what it was they wanted. With a pleasant smile, he turned to her and informed that he would need three cotton sailing shirts and pants, while his sister would need three working dresses.

He made sure to ask her, before she brought him back to her measurement block, if she would be able to finish them within the next few days, to which she responded with a frown, claiming that she might be able to finish his shirts and pants, but that Mabel's dresses would take just a bit longer. He bit his lip and frowned, before looking over to his sister and asking what she thought. Mabel got a contemplative look on her face and tilted her head to the side as she thought.

"Hmm… would you be able to make at least one dress within the next couple of days?" She asked. The tailor frowned again, but nodded, claiming that she most likely would, it would just cost a bit extra for rushed production. Mabel grinned, not minding having to pay extra just as long as she got her dress.

"Okay! We'll do that. Then, you can just send the other two over in a mail ship once they're done," she claimed, a large and genuine smile on her face as she turned back to the fabrics, telling the seamstress which colors looked best on her, or else which type of sewing she preferred on her dresses. Dipper felt just a little sorry for the older woman, but knew that once his twin got like this, there was no stopping her. She took her clothing seriously, after all.

As his sister spoke with the woman, he went back with the seamstress's assistant and got his measurements taken, the young girl helping him smiling kindly at him as she took precise measurements. The whole process was always a bit awkward, since he had to get partially undressed so the measurements would be accurate, but he lived through it and soon it was over and he was allowed to put his shirt and pants back on.

It was as he was pulling his shirt back over his head that he heard his sister gasp loudly, an excited sound. Turning, he had to suppress a groan at the article of clothing she was holding in her arms, her eyes alight with passion and joy. It seemed that while he had gotten his measurements taken, she had moved on from the fabrics and onto the pre-made outfits that the seamstress had around the store.

"Oh, Dipper, look! Wouldn't this just look perfect on you?" The girl questioned, her eyes sparkling as she grinned. Dipper, on the other hand, had to try his best to not grimace at it.

It wasn't that it was bad, per se. In fact, compared to some of the things his sister had picked out for him over the years, it was actually pretty tame. It was plain white, with blue embroidery on the cuffs and collar, little swirls like a wave. What had him grimacing, however, was the embroidered design that took up the left breast of the shirt.

"Really, Mabel? A pine tree?" He responded, walking over and examining the shirt. Touching it, he had to admit that it was pretty soft. And up close, it didn't look quite as garish as it had seemed at first. The blue pine tree on the left breast was a bit much, but it didn't completely ruin the shirt, he guessed. He saw Mabel roll her eyes at his words.

"Why not? We're the Pines! It's fitting!" She exclaimed, grinning cheekily at him. "Besides, you like blue, don't you? And, if you get this shirt, it won't take as long as making one from scratch would. It's win-win, bro-bro."

Well, when she put it that way… with a sigh and a shake of his head, he found himself shrugging his agreement. The shirt honestly wasn't that bad, even if it was a bit unheard of for sailors to wear embroidered clothing. Part of him was sure that certain members of the crew would tease him about it, if they saw him wearing it. But, if he wore it only on occasion… he guessed it could work. Plus, if his sister liked it, he'd get it. He trusted her opinion enough for that.

Mabel gave him a happy grin at that, handing it to the seamstress before she went back to look at the other pre-made clothes the tailor had in her shop. While Mabel wasn't the biggest fan of pre-made clothing, preferring to have her own specifications on the clothing she wore, it took a lot less time to adjust an article of clothing than it did to make one. With their time restraint, he knew that his sister would suck it up and get something not to her specific liking if it meant she would have more clothing to wear. However, she found nothing else that really interested her, so she simply shrugged and went back to the rows of fabric to find the best ones for their outfits. Dipper, not having any idea what she was muttering about, decided to retreat to the back of the store to wait for her to finish, hoping he didn't look quite as uncomfortable as he felt. He didn't think he'd ever quite understand his sister's fascination with clothing, but he wasn't about to make her leave early if she was having fun.

Once his sister was finally done examining the fabrics and threads, she got up on the measurement box to get her measurements taken, the privacy sheet going around her so that no one would see her underthings. It took her a bit longer than it had taken him to get properly measured, but not that much. When she had finished and had stepped off the box, the seamstress asked him if he would try on the shirt his sister wanted him to buy so she could tailor it to him. Obliging, he took off his shirt and put the pine tree accented one on, noticing that it was a little too big, but not terribly so. He stood, patiently, as the woman poked and prodded, putting pins dangerously close to his skin. He was grimacing lightly by the time she let him go, rubbing his arms to get the goosebumps to go away.

Finally done, the tailor smiled at them politely and informed them that they should come by later that day to pick up his shirt, and to come by in two days to pick up the rest of their clothing. With smiles of their own, they thanked the woman and left the store quickly.

Back on the street, Dipper had to let out a relieved sigh, glad to be out of that store. While he didn't mind shopping as much as he always claimed, it really was long and boring to get done. Especially when his sister got really into it. Unfortunately, his sister heard his sigh of relief and let out her own, amused snort.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it Dipping-sauce?" She asked teasingly, bumping her shoulder lightly against his as they walked. Dipper rolled his eyes, concealing a smile as he bumped her back.

"Wasn't as bad as it sometimes was. I mean, at least this time you didn't harass the seamstress as much as you usually do," he teased back. Mabel took on a look of mock offense at his words, placing a hand dramatically over her heart

"Really, Dipper, you wound me. Is it really my fault that I have such strong opinions about how clothes should be properly made? And besides, the seamstresses never seem to mind," she sniffed dramatically. Dipper raised an eyebrow at her as they took a right onto a smaller, less crowded side street.

"Mabel, you once made a woman cry because she couldn't follow all of your needlessly complicated instructions," he reminded, the memory of the time that Mabel had come on just a bit too strong when they had been young, causing the seamstress's apprentice to burst into tears as she tried to follow all of his sister's instructions clear in his mind. Mabel pouted at that and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Well, it wasn't my fault that the woman couldn't follow my _simple_  instructions. And besides, I was twelve at the time, and had apologized for that."

Dipper shook his head at her, letting out a small laugh as he bumped against her shoulder again. She smiled softly back at him, before turning and looking at the shops they were passing by, gasping with interest at some of the things they saw. Dipper followed her around, entering stores with her and offering his opinion on some of the things she wanted to buy. Usually when they were at port, his sister would have left him by now, off to find some handsome men to flirt with while he went to do his own thing, but today neither particularly wanted to leave the other's side. Dipper knew he didn't want to leave his sister alone, not after her bout of depression, and he assumed that she was still a touch shaken from her earlier upset. He didn't mind, though. He enjoyed his twin's company, and it wasn't too terrible to wander into stores with her.

As they were walking down a side street, sometime later, Dipper noticed a book shop and could feel excitement fill him. He could see brand new books sitting in the storefront and he was itching to flip through them, seeing what knowledge they contained. Turning to his sister, he began to ask if they could go inside, but was stopped when he saw her roll her eyes with a fond grin.

"Let me guess, you want to go in?" She asked with a smirk, shifting her weight a bit so she wouldn't lose her grip on the stone pig she had bought. He replied with a sheepish grin, which made Mabel sigh good-naturedly.

"Okay, Dipper. I'll allow it. And, I won't even complain or tease you all that much, since you came clothes shopping with me earlier," she stated, before heading off towards the worn store. Dipper smiled as he followed, feeling giddy to be back in his element.

Dipper had always loved books, ever since he had been a child and had learned to read from a tutor. Growing up, he had read anything he could get his hands on. Mysteries, dramas, and most of all, nonfiction research books. Back at home, he had spent hours in his mother's library, reading all the books that he could find. The rest of his family didn't quite understand why he loved to read as much as he did, but he had always found it hard to explain. He simply loved to learn, loved to explore the worlds that the books shared. That was something that he guessed they just could not understand.

But now, in this old book shop, mountains of books surrounding him… he felt at peace for the first time in days. All of his worries and fears melted as he ran his fingers over the leather bound spines of various tomes. Who cared about pirates when he had books to read? He barely even noticed his sister, who was watching him with a fond- if a bit bemused- smile.

Wandering the aisles, he pulled out random books and read a few sentences before either putting them back or adding them to a pile he had accumulated on the ground. He lost himself in the aisles, time escaping him as he wandered up and down the small shop. He didn't even know much time had passed when his sister finally came up to him, practically pleading that they leave, saying that she had tried to be nice, but they had been in there for long enough. It was with a sigh that Dipper did as she asked. Part of him wanted to stay in the shop, to tell her to go on without him, but he still didn't want to leave his sister alone. And no matter what, he knew that he would always pick his sister over anything, even his own peace and contentment. So, with just a twinge of regret, he picked up the large pile of books and brought them to the counter. They were really heavy, but over the past year of moving boxes around for his great uncle, he had gained enough muscle on his lean body to be able to lift them with ease.

At the counter, Dipper bought the lot of books, and requested that the bookkeeper deliver them to his great uncle's ship in the harbor, if the man did that sort of thing. The bookkeeper said that he did and agreed, charging a small fee for the additional service, but Dipper didn't mind all that much. Handing the required gold over, he smiled pleasantly before leaving the counter, feeling happy that he had gotten enough reading material to hopefully make the long trips across the ocean just a bit more bearable. Going over to his sister, he smiled sheepishly at the exasperated look she was shooting him, holding the door open for her so they could leave.

 

"Finally! Thought you were going to spend the rest of the day in there!" She exclaimed, shaking her head slightly at him. "Well, at least we're leaving now. What do you want to do now, bro-bro?" Mabel asked, poking him lightly in the arm. Dipper thought for a second, before noticing that the sun was positioned more west in the sky than it had been earlier. Judging by its location, he assumed that it was probably around five or six in the evening, right around time to pick up that shirt that Mabel had insisted he get. He said as much to Mabel, and she nodded.

"Yeah, you're right. Come on, let's go back and find the tailor so you can get your nice, new shirt."

Together, the two of them wandered back through the streets of the town, trying to remember the way back to the tailor's shop. It took them a bit longer than they had expected to get to the store, the sun already setting by the time they walked in.

The seamstress greeted them as they entered, walking over to a mannequin and presenting him with the fully tailored shirt that he had requested. She then told him to take his shirt off so she could make any final adjustments, which he did with some reluctance. He hoped that it fit right, because he did not want to get poked and prodded by any needles or pins again.

To his luck, when he tried on the shirt, it fit almost perfectly. The seamstress had to hem the bottom just a bit, since it was a little too long, but other than that it was perfect. He thanked the woman and was about to change back into his old shirt, when Mabel stopped him.

"Nuh-uh, bro-bro. This shirt is full of holes, stains, and is tattered beyond belief. Just wear your new shirt out for now," she demanded, frowning down at the garment that Dipper was holding in his hands. He was about to complain, saying that there was nothing wrong with his old shirt, but decided that it wasn't worth the effort and gave up. Besides, his sister was right; his old shirt was really ratty.

After that they exited the store, the darkness spreading outside. The oil lamps were lit and everyone was starting to go home, or else to the tavern for a night out. Dipper watched them go, thinking that perhaps they should head back to the ship for the night, since the stores were probably closing soon. Part of him had the nagging feeling like he was forgetting something though. Something he had wanted to do while on land, something important. Something like… oh. Oh. Oh dear. Something like Wendy. Like the fact that she had asked him to go with her and her friends out to the tavern tonight. Something that he had completely forgotten with his worry about his sister and his desperate wishing for this day to be good for her.

Oh great. He had finally gotten asked to go out with Wendy and her friends, something that had never happened before, and he went and forgot. He let out a groan as he slapped his forehead in frustration, angry at himself.

"Hey, Dipper, what's wrong?" He heard Mabel ask him, placing her hand on his shoulder a second later. He looked up at her with miserable eyes.

"Argh, I forgot! Yesterday, before dinner, Wendy invited me out to the tavern with her and a couple of the guys. She said to meet her at nightfall and I'm late!" He stated, shifting around and darting his eyes. He hated that he did this sometimes, forget important things. With so many thoughts racing though his overcrowded head, it was easy to overlook things, even if those things should be important. Especially when his sister was concerned.

"Oh my gosh, are you serious?! Dipper, what are you doing standing around here for then, get going!" She exclaimed, her eyes wide as she looked at him, a large grin sprouting on her face. He faltered for a second though.

"Are you sure? I don't want to leave you alone," he stated, really not wanting to abandon her or anything. Mabel just waved her hand dismissively.

"Go! Have fun! Just be sure to tell me all about it tonight, or tomorrow if you get back really late. Okay?" She insisted, nudging him gently along. With a smile, he leaned down and kissed her cheek gently.

"Got it. See you later, Mabes," he said, before turning and rushing off, the wind blowing through his hair as he rushed to get to the port. He felt bad about leaving his sister, but he supposed that she would be fine. It was getting late anyway, so she'd most likely just go back to the ship and settle down.

Running between the various people and the various obstacles in his way, Dipper tried his best to get back to the port as quickly as possible. It wasn't that much past sundown, so he was hoping that he wouldn't be too late. That they were waiting for him. Part of him feared that they weren't, that they would leave without him, not wanting to wait. He hoped that they didn't. He hated getting left behind. It was always painful.

He reached the port soon later, his heart pounding as he tried his best to catch his breath. He realized as he walked down the dock that they hadn't specified where they would meet, if they were meeting on the ship or if they were meeting somewhere else. After a moment of searching, though, he spotted the tall redhead standing beside The Mystery, laughing at something one of her friends had said. Taking a deep breath and standing up straight, he walked over to them, trying to keep the nerves out of his mind. It was just a meet up with a group of sailors from his great uncle's ship. It wasn't anything to be scared of. Just because he barely spent any time with these people- outside of Wendy- didn't mean it would go terribly. After all, Wendy would be there. She would help him out.

Reaching them, he cleared his throat a bit, which caused them to stop their conversation and look over at him. He felt relieved when Wendy grinned down at him.

"Hey, Dipper! You made it! Great, that means we're all here and can get going. Finally. I'm looking forward to spending some time at the tavern, ya know what I mean?" She asked to the other sailors, who all laughed. Dipper didn't really see what was funny, but he laughed along, somewhat awkwardly.

After that, the group of six- Dipper, Wendy, and four other sailors from The Mystery- moved down the dock, laughing and joking around. Dipper found himself trailing behind, however, feeling awkward. He didn't know these people, spending almost all of his time on board the ship either with his sister or alone. He did occasionally speak with Wendy or Soos, but it wasn't very often. Mabel was always the more outgoing of the two, while he tended to fade to the background. Being here, with these people he didn't really know, was awkward and he briefly wondered why he had wanted to do this, especially now that Wendy was more or less ignoring him. He was fading to the background again, and he was beginning to hate it. But then, maybe that was just the type of person he was. Meant for the background, there but not really.

As they walked off the dock and over towards where he assumed the tavern was, Dipper listened as the other five joked and laughed together. Part of him wanted, desperately, to interject with his own comments. To add something to the conversation. But he never could get up the nerve, too worried that he might come off looking like an idiot, which had happened in the past. He knew that a lot of the crew saw him as a cowardly child, and he really didn't feel like getting made fun of tonight. Getting laughed at by members of his great uncle's crew was never fun, the sting bitter in his heart. Part of him wished that Wendy would speak to him- hell, even _look_  at him- but she was locked in a conversation with Robbie, a stupid sailor who always made fun of his Noble upbringing.

By the time they finally reached the tavern, he was firmly wishing that he had never agreed to come in the first place. This wasn't fun for him. It wasn't what he had thought it would be. He had thought Wendy would be there for him, but she was barely even looking at him, let alone trying to speak to him. It just reminded him of how much of an outsider he truly was on the ship. Part of him wished that someone, just once, would care if he was there or not. Outside of his family, that is.

As they took their seats, finding themselves a large round table near the centre of the room, Dipper tried to think positively. Sure things weren't looking too good, but maybe they would start to look up. His seat was right beside Wendy, something he made sure of, since he only really knew her. Maybe now she would look at him and talk. Maybe now he'd have an ally.

And it seemed to be true. Once they had all settled and Robbie had went off to get some ale for them all, Wendy turned to him and began joking around, telling him an anecdote about something hilarious she had seen Soos doing a week or so ago. For the first time that night, he laughed genuinely, and he returned with his own hesitant story. To his surprise, the whole table began to laugh at his words, but not cruelly. No, they seemed to actually think his tale was funny. It made him smile, part of him relieved that that first bridge had been crossed. That he had made the first step and it seemed to be successful. Now he just had to play it cool and hope that nothing bad happened.

Before he could finish his story, though, Robbie returned with the ales, slamming them down in the centre of the table with a thud that sloshed part of the liquid out of the mugs and onto the table.

"Alright, so I got the ale. Everyone grab your pints an' drink up," Robbie stated as he took his seat on the other side of Wendy. Dipper's story got put to the wayside as everyone cheered and grabbed their mug, laughter sounding as they drank. Dipper felt confused when he saw that a mug remained in the center of the table, though, wondering why Robbie had ordered a sixth. It wasn't until Wendy nudged him in the arm and indicated to the remaining mug that he realized that it was meant for him.

"B-but I'm not old enough," he stammered, feeling his face heat up slightly. On the other side of Wendy, Dipper could see Robbie scoff and give him a look.

"So? Just drink the ale, freak. 'S'not like we're on the ship or anything. Unless you're afraid your uncle's going to catch you?" Robbie questioned, smirking meanly. Dipper felt his face heat up further, hating the way that Robbie made him feel like an idiot. Like he was lesser. Dipper had always hated that feeling, and would do almost anything to get rid of it. Including, it seemed, taking the mug of ale from the centre of the table and taking a large sip, doing his best to not gag on the foul liquid. While he had had beer before, back on the ship when their water had turned stale, it was weaker and more dilute than this was. The ale's taste was like paint, thick and unrelenting on his tongue, and he longed to spit it out and never take another sip of this fermented nightmare. However, he could see Robbie was still staring at him, judging him, and so he took another sip purely out of spite.

The rest of the night was a bit of a blur to him, the alcohol from his ale making his head spin. He had only had the one mug, since Wendy had stopped Robbie from getting him a second one, but it was enough to make his fingers tingle and his head swim. He found himself joking with the others, laughing at their stories and even sharing his own. At one point he thought he might have even started sharing tales from before his life on the ship, something he hadn't done before. He kept it mostly to the funnier stories, the lighter ones that weren't as painful to remember, so he guessed it wasn't that bad. At least the others seemed to enjoy them, if their laughter was any indication, which made his heart swell. All in all, it was shaping up to be a perfect night, the initial unpleasantness forgotten.

But nothing could be totally perfect. About an hour or so after they had arrived at the tavern, Robbie returned from getting the others' their fifth pint of ale, a piece of paper in his hand. Dipper watched as the man set the mugs of ale down before brandishing the paper, a wide, drunken grin on his face.

"Hey, lookie what I found at the bar," Robbie slurred, setting the paper down in the centre of the table after everyone had taken their mugs. "'S a wanted poster for a pirate captain, who's been terr- teror- terrorizin' the port fer a couple'a weeks now. Who wants ta bet this is the pirate that the watchman spotted?"

The other guys in the group got excited at that, crowding the poster and taking a look at the pirate depicted there. It had become almost a game amongst the crew, trying to figure out which pirate was the one they saw, if it was a famous one or a newbie. Dipper, though, found himself hanging back, his heart falling as the words resonated around his mind. Of course they had to talk about pirates now, just when he had finally gotten his mind off of them and was enjoying his time at port. Part of him didn't want to see the poster, didn't want to acknowledge the real threat that followed them, but the majority of him was filled with a burning curiosity. And he was never able to ignore his curiosity, not until he had sated it fully. So, even with the pounding in his heart, he took the poster that Wendy had somehow ended up with, and took a long look at the sketch.

Well, it was of a man, clearly. Light-ish skinned, with medium length, choppy hair that was slightly longer than his own, but not as long as some pirates had. One of the man's eyes, the right one, was covered by hair, but the other was staring straight forward, somehow piercing even as a drawing. The pirate's mouth was stretched in a wide, almost manic looking grin, his teeth sharp as fangs. On top of his head was an elaborate- and tall- pirate hat, indicating the man's status as captain. At the top of the poster was a list of crimes the man was wanted for, and Dipper could feel himself shiver. Murder, piracy, and treason. With a reward of 50,000 gold pieces, it was clear that this man was one who was keenly sought after.

Before Dipper could fully examine the poster to his liking, he felt as it got ripped from his hands, the sailor who was sitting on his right wanting to take a look.

"Huh. Doesn't look that tough. I bet we could take 'im," Tthe man- Lee Dipper thinks- claimed, grinning at the other man beside him.

That got the group started on what they would do to any pirate who dared to board their ship, ranging from barely plausible to downright impossible. But Dipper wasn't paying attention. He was still focussed on the poster, which was now in the centre of the table again. He could feel his heart sinking as he looked at it, the pleasant feeling he had gotten from the ale disappearing in the wake of remembering the very real danger they were in. And despite what the others were saying, Dipper thought that this man looked incredibly dangerous. That grin… feeling the urge to examine the poster later, when he was alone and no one could distract him, Dipper grabbed it from the centre and folded it, sticking in the back of his shoe for safe keeping. He then forced himself to listen to what the others were saying, trying his hardest to laugh along and not show his discomfort.

Once the guys were finally done talking about the pirate, they went back to their previous conversation, laughing and joking once more. Dipper did his best to move on, but he felt off now, like he had been thrown off kilter. When the night ended hours later, he found that he felt somewhat relieved, despite the fact that he had had a mostly good night.

Once he was back in his room, the lantern off and Mabel asleep in her bed, Dipper couldn't help but think about the poster. About the pirate depicted there. With a burning curiosity and a building fear, Dipper removed the poster from his shoe and went over to the single candle in their room, lighting it so he could see.

The man really did look fearsome, he thought, doubly so with the manic grin. Dipper almost felt like the drawing was staring at him, the pirate depicted laughing at him right before he sliced his throat.

What confused Dipper, though, was the high and sharp looking cheekbones the pirate appeared to have. Typically, only the aristocracy, the high society, had cheekbones such as that. Dipper's mother and maternal grandparents had. So to see it on a pirate was bizarre to him. Why would a man with Noble blood ever go into something as terrible as piracy? Unless, he thought with a frown, the man was illegitimate. As a child he had heard whispers, stories of mainly men who had accidental children with their mistresses, sending the child away and pretending they had no idea about their existence. What happened to those children was never spoken about, too improper for polite company, but it was assumed that they tended to end up on the streets, the bastard children of the most elite. Unwanted everywhere they went.

But that didn't matter. Regardless of the man's family line, no matter his reasons for turning to piracy, Dipper feared him. If this was indeed the captain of the pirate ship the watchman had spotted, he could only hope that Stan was as good a fighter as people always said he was. Because this man… something about him screamed 'DANGER.' And Dipper trusted his instinct enough to know that if his gut was screaming at him to run and never come back, then this man was seriously bad news.

He stared at the drawing for a few more moments before shaking himself out of his fear. There was no reason to panic, he told himself harshly, even as the fear settled in his gut. There was no proof that this man's ship was the pirate ship they had spotted, and even if it was, there was no saying that they'd get boarded. He was just being paranoid. Again.

So, he blew the candle out and put the poster back in his boot, before going over to his bed to go to sleep. There was no use, at all, worrying about something that might not even happen. Instead, he should focus on the fact that he had successfully spent a night out with Wendy and her friends, without making a fool of himself. And that Mabel was doing better now.

Things would work out just fine. He was just being paranoid. Nothing would go wrong at all.

Hopefully.

* * *


	3. The Calm Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Glad to see you again. How's it going?
> 
> I'm glad to see that people don't seem to hate this story. That's great. Hopefully that doesn't change over the next few months. 
> 
> I... honestly don't have much to say. I know that I had wanted to say something, but it has completely slipped my mind, with all the school work I had to do today. High school is officially kicking my butt. Ah well, hopefully it wasn't too important. 
> 
> Also, happy early Halloween everyone! Anyone trick or treating? I'm a bit too old for that, and I don't have any friends so parties are out of the question, but I still love the holiday. I even dressed up as Dipper at school today, since I don't have any classes on Fridays. No one recognized me, and one person actually asked if I was a Pokemon trainer, but it was still fun. 
> 
> Anyway, onto the story. Remember, I will be posting the next chapter not tomorrow, but on Sunday. Please review/comment! They really do help me, since they let me know that people are reading this. Kudos and Favorites are great, but they don't let me know if you're still enjoying the story or not. Also, if you have any questions, feel free to ask and I'll be sure to answer when I have the time. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

When Dipper awoke the next morning, he could feel a dull ache in his head. Like a drummer was rum-tumming in his head, sharp and centralized and painful. With a groan he rolled onto his side, trying his hardest to ignore it, but was unable. Especially when his sister started making a lot of noise during her morning routine, humming lightly to a sea shanty. He gave up trying to nurse his migraine a few moments later, admitting defeat with a pained sigh, before sitting up. Part of him felt glad that since they were at port, he did not have to do his regular daily chores, which would have been torture with how his head pounded.

"Rise and shine, brother dearest!" Mabel chirped, shooting him a happy grin once she noticed he was awake. She then bounded over to him, bouncing slightly when she jumped down beside him on his bed. He let out a small, startled, and slightly pained yelp as he grimaced at his twin. Oh, he wished that she wouldn't do that. He could feel his head throb as he looked over at her, wishing she would stop moving for just a second.

"Argh, Mabel, would you stop that? I'm up, I'm up!" He grumbled, rubbing his eyes as he tried to force the sleep and pain out of them to no avail. Mabel just continued to grin at him.

"So? How did it go last night? Did you have fun?" She questioned, as she grab his arm and shook him slightly in emphasis. Dipper sighed and gently tore his arm away from his sister, grimacing as he stood up to get ready for the day. He felt all grimy and gross, and he desperately wanted to freshen up before Mabel began interrogating him.

Walking over to his wardrobe, he took off his new, pine tree accented shift and put it away, thinking that perhaps, one day, he might wear it again. It really was a surprisingly comfortable shirt and it fit him well. Once he was done, his shirt and pants exchanged for a new set, he turned back towards his sister and let out a sigh.

"It went alright, I guess. The beginning wasn't the best, with Wendy kind of ignoring me for the first part of it, but after a while I got more comfortable and it went pretty well. We chatted and joked about life on the ship. I even had an ale, at one point. Just the one, though," he reassured quickly, after he saw Mabel's eyes widen with shock. He decided then that he wouldn't tell her about the discussion on pirates and the speculation on whose ship they had spotted could be. He didn't want to scare her, or anything. Not now that she was finally happy again.

"Aw, well that sounds like fun! Now, tell me the details. Don't think that your barebones story is enough for this girl," she claimed, grinning up at him. Dipper rolled his eyes slightly before moving back over to where she still resided on his bed.

Knowing that she would not stop until he spilled all of the details, he did his best to tell her everything that happened, still excluding those few minutes where the pirate captain William 'Bill' Cipher had come up. She didn't seem to notice, which he felt relieved about. Had she sensed any discrepancy in his story, she would have never let it go. She was forceful, that way. Once he was done with his account of the night, she let out a small hum, a wide grin growing on her face.

"Aww, Dip! That's great! You're finally making friends," she stated, her eyes shining at him as her grin went, if possible, wider. Dipper sometimes wondered how her face didn't hurt, with all the grinning she did.

"Mabel, I already had friends. Soos and Wendy count as friends, don't they?" He inquired, screwing his face up indignantly in response to her. It was a thing Mabel did, sometimes, worrying about his social life. She had done so even before their parent's death, constantly dragging him out to meet up with some of the other Nobles' children. While their family may have been shunned by some, there were a few who did not mind the fact they were of mixed blood and she made sure he spent time with them all.

"Yeah, but you never speak with anyone but them! So it's good that you're spending time with the other sailors, bro-bro. Don't want to end up a lonely old man with no friends, do you?"

Dipper did not respond to her, simply rolling his eyes before standing up and reaching for a brush for his unruly hair. He could feel a frown growing on his face, though, as he combed through the locks. He was not lonely, he had his circle of friends. Just because Mabel was a social butterfly did not mean he was alone. It didn't.

Time passed as he continued to ready himself for the day, almost nervously, his sister simply leaning back on his bed since she had most likely finished before he had awoken. When he was done, she looked up at him and smiled.

"Well, I've got some news," she stated, standing up and stretching lightly. "I thought you might like to know that last night Grunkle Stan came up to our cabin while you were gone and informed me that we were leaving port tomorrow. Apparently he managed to find a way to get the ship repaired quicker than anticipated. He'd have us leave today, but he wanted to let the crew have some more time off before we set out again," she informed, moving over to the closet to get her purse that she kept there. She then walked over to the door and looked back at him, before continuing.

"So, since we do not have all that much more time left at port, I was thinking I could wander around by myself today. You know, see if I can find any handsome sailors to chat up. You can do whatever you want, okay Dipping-sauce?" Mabel finished, smiling lightly at him. Dipper rolled his eyes again, but he smiled lightly back.

"Alright, Mabel. See you tonight?"

"See you tonight. Oh! Before I forget, your books were delivered sometime last night and are sitting over by the wall, so they wouldn't fall over. Make sure you put them away before you leave, okay? Don't want them falling and getting all over the place, do you?" She requested, before waving and exiting the room. Dipper blinked as he recalled all the books he had gotten, before grinning. With enthusiasm, he looked over to where he could see the tall pile and walked over, having the urge to explore and sort them. He wouldn't read any, not until they were out at sea, but he would make sure to get them all put away. Picking the pile up, he walked over to his bed and set them all down.

Spreading them out on his sheet, Dipper picked each one up, examined it, and put it in a certain category. Nonfiction on the right, mystery in the middle, and adventure on the left. It took him several minutes before he was done, but once he was he felt himself smile at his collection. He had gotten twelve new books this time, a bit excessive, but necessary if they were planning on spending weeks at a time at sea. Hopefully this would be enough to stave off boredom for a decent amount of time.

Done with the sorting, he then went over to the chest that he kept at the foot of his bed and opened it. He frowned, though, when he noticed that it was almost completely full. He kept almost all of his books in this chest, since the raging seas made it impossible to keep them on shelves, and it appeared that he had acquired more than he had space for. Ah well; he could always get a bigger chest one of these days, or else get rid of some of his least favorite books. At the moment, it looked like he would have enough room for his new addition of books, so he wouldn't have to worry about that right then, he supposed. Putting the books away in their proper categories, he closed the chest and picked his satchel up off the ground, thinking that he could go and spend the day wandering the town, seeing as how they didn't have much more time left there. While he may not hate the confining feeling that living on the sea gave, he did love to be able to wander off board when given the chance.

Leaving his room and walking to the upper decks, he breathed in the open air, a half formed smile on his lips. He did give one, slightly anxious glance at the open ocean, but felt resolved to do his best to ignore the nerves he felt about pirates. He could still feel the poster that he had kept in his boot, but he wouldn't let himself worry over it. Not today. He was going to have a good day at shore, goddammit, and no pirate was going to ruin that.

After that he left the ship, heading down into town. He wasn't quite sure what he would do- he never really did- but he was sure he'd think of something. His main problem was that he didn't really know what he could do. Back at home, he had tended to spend most of his time with tutors, or else reading in his room. When he did go out to town, it was usually either with his parents or with his sister. He supposed he could go back to the book shop, like he usually did while on shore, but since he had very little space left in his chest, he didn't know if he should.

So, with nothing else in mind, Dipper began to wander around the town. He took in all the stores that he passed, smiling at the people he saw. He window shopped and let his mind wander as he thought of nothing of substance. He allowed himself to simply _be_  for the day. Occasionally he would see members of his great uncle's crew, but none of them paid him any mind, too engrossed in their own lives and business to pay attention to him. He did see Soos at one point and entered a brief conversation about the sea with the man. Dipper had learned a while before that while Soos may not look like much, he was surprisingly knowledgeable about the sea, since he had been sailing it since the age of twelve. Their conversation did not last long however, the rotund man having other business to take care of, and so they soon parted.

Dipper continued his wandering for a while after that, until around lunch time. Feeling his stomach growl, he stopped off at a small pub and ordered himself a meal. While waiting for the food to come, he examined the establishment and its inhabitants, and decided to indulge an old habit of his. Ever since he had been a child, Dipper had felt fascinated by people. How they moved, how they acted, what they did. He had spent hours as a child watching people go about their daily lives. Servants, workers, the aristocrats and Nobles. Everyone had a different story to tell, and it fascinated him to see. He hadn't done it in a while, probably a few months, but he decided he had earned himself a bit of a reprieve from everything. So he watched as men and women laughed and spoke, as they embraced and argued. In his mind, he began to think up stories for these people, giving them reasons for doing what they were doing. Details of a life he had created, details that were most definitely false, but interesting. It helped pass the time, letting him get involved in created lives of people he had never met and likely would never, truly, meet. When his lunch arrived, he abandoned his game, but he felt more relaxed afterwards. The food also helped, as he ate it slowly, savoring the taste. He had to admit, after weeks of living off supplies from the ship, this subpar pub food tasted like heaven.

Lunch ended quicker than he had hoped, so he left the pub and returned to his wandering. Even though there was not much for him to do here, he still loved to walk around, experiencing everything he could. It was like an adventure, he always told himself. Discovering every aspect of this small town, learning all he could before it was time to go. Pretend that he was an explorer discovering a new land for the first time, and it was up to him to document it all.

But as the time passed, he began to grow bored of his game. With little else to do, Dipper found himself a quiet, secluded spot out by the ocean edge and took out the sketch journal he kept in his satchel, along with a piece of charcoal his sister had gotten him a little while ago, studying the blue-green water as it rippled. While he may not have been the best artist in the world, it did help to pass the time. And when one lived on a ship with very little to do, it was imperative to come up with ways to entertain oneself. So Dipper had. Drawing, while difficult, was soothing. It allowed him to put his full focus on a single subject for hours, time disappearing as he drew. It was with patient hands that he began to carefully sketch the ocean as it lapped against the moored ships, doing his best to get as many details as he could down.

Time passed, and before he knew it, it was getting dark. Seeing the sun go down, he decided to call it quits, finishing his drawing quickly before getting up, stretching, and heading back to the ship. He made sure to stop at the pub to eat first, though. He would never, voluntarily, eat the ship's food. No disrespect to the chef, but it was never as appetizing as Dipper had once been used to. But then, nothing was quite as good as Dipper had used to have. He tried not to let it bother him much, anymore.

Once he had finished dinner, he finally headed back to the ship, content with the day. While he may not have done much, he felt satisfied that he had not wasted his time. And, he hadn't even thought of pirates once. Which, considering the past several days, was a record.

On the ship, he headed down to his room, inclining his head politely as he passed his great uncle and captain. He did not show his respect often, but it was undeniable that he did respect the man. He noticed, as he passed, that his guardian looked troubled, his eyes dark as the elder man looked out at the darkening sea. Perhaps he wasn't the only one anxious about meeting with the pirates, he thought as he went down to the lower decks, where his and his sister's cabin was. He was unsure whether that comforted him or not.

As he entered his cabin, Dipper noticed that he was the only one in it, meaning that his sister was still out at port. He wasn't too concerned, since Mabel was known for staying out late while on land, determined to spend as much time as possible off of the ship. While she didn't hate the sea, Dipper knew his sister did not like how confining the ship was, preferring the freedom of shore.

With a sigh, Dipper went over to his bed, exhausted after the long day. He paused, though, when he saw the package that was laying on his sheets, a single piece of paper lying innocently beside it. Curious, he picked the package up, turning it in his hands. It was thin, he noticed, but long. About as long as his forearm. Curiosity piqued, Dipper carefully opened the paper and felt his eyes go wide as he saw what was inside.

A dagger. Removing the plain leather sheath, he examined the unexpected gift. It was thin, but deadly sharp, the blade glinting in the soft candlelight. The handle was soft blue in color, some type of gemstone that he could not figure out. Swirling silver designs went from the hilt to the tip of the handle, looking like the cresting of a wave. It was beautiful, in a deadly way.

Confused as to why this blade was on his bed, he turned then to the piece of paper that had been beside the blade. Setting the dagger down carefully, he picked the paper up and looked at the messy, familiar scrawl that was on it. As soon as he saw the writing, he knew who had given him the gift. There was only one man with handwriting that messy. The only question left now was why. Well, only one way to find out, he thought as he read the brief words.

 _Just in case_  
_-SP_

Oh. So that was why his great uncle would leave him a blade. The pirates. Stan must really be nervous, if he was willingly giving Dipper a blade. It was curious, though, that the man would give him such an ornate dagger. Where had he even gotten such a blade? On his travels? It looked old, Dipper thought, perhaps even older than he was. It was also well worn, the handle indented slightly by sweat and use. Why would Stan give him this? Why not a more basic blade, like the ones most of the crew owned, alongside their swords?

Dipper was unable to puzzle over the blade for long, because a few moments later the door to the cabin opened, a grinning Mabel standing in the doorway.

"Hello Dipper!" She chirped as she bounced over to her bed. Dipper could see that there was no package for Mabel, which made Dipper wonder. Why give him a blade, but not Mabel? Well, perhaps his great uncle did not want to concern his twin, or else he thought that Dipper would be able to protect her. Not to mention the fact that Mabel did have her own stiletto dagger that their mother had given her on her thirteenth birthday, to keep her safe from unfavorable company. While his sister did not wear the knife often, he would bet that she was carrying it around with her now, with the threat of pirates on their minds.

"Hey, Mabes. You have a good day on shore?" He questioned, hiding the dagger he had been gifted under his sheets. He did not wish to concern her, either, if he could help it.

"Mmhmm. I wandered the shops, buying myself some interesting looking things. Oh! I also bought myself some fabric from the tailor. Thought I could get back into sewing a bit, maybe," Mabel told, grinning at him. He grinned back, glad to hear his sister was getting back into her old hobbies. He remembered how much she loved to sew when they were children, so it was nice to know she was getting back into it.

"That's great, Mabel! Just make sure you keep it on your side of the room, okay? I don't want my side to get full of your fabrics and all that," he said teasingly, to which Mabel rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll keep it to myself so to not ruin your sparkling clean side of the room," she grinned, pointedly looking at the piles of clothing and other various things he had strewn across the floor. Alright, he thought with a small grimace as he glanced around as well, so maybe he wasn't the cleanliest person in the world. So what?

Dipper did not respond to her, simply rolling his eyes before laying down in bed. He could hear her settling down for the night, changing from her dress to her night things. He never bothered to change, at night. It didn't really matter much to him, and his sailing clothes were pretty comfortable, he guessed. Plus, it was good to always be aware, to be ready to wake up at a moment's notice. Once his sister was done, she turned off the lantern and settled into bed, wishing him a sleepy 'goodnight,' which he returned in kind before turning onto his side and attempted to rest.

Sleep was easier for him to find that night, he found, the small dagger helping keep his fears at bay. He still had his nightmares, but he was used to those by then. When he woke the next morning, he felt more rested than he had in ages.

Since they were getting ready to leave that day- that afternoon if his great uncle was to be believed- Stan had him and Mabel do their usual chores, swabbing the deck and getting the ship ready to leave that afternoon. Many sailors were unable to work that day, still hungover from their night out at port, and while Stan did not approve of his sailors drinking, he did not punish them too cruelly, not when it had been a long time that they were out at sea. Because of the fewer hands, however, he and Mabel had to do more work than usual, meaning that they would not be able to return to shore for long- if at all- that day. Which he could see disappointed his twin, the prospect of spending an unknown amount of time trapped on the ship taking some of the usual bounce in her step away, her eyes more dull than they had been previously.

So, with only very mild regret, he told Mabel he would finish her chores if she wished to spend the rest of the morning on shore. While it would mean he had more to do, and thus would be unable to return to shore at all, he would do it if it allowed his sister more time to be free. He watched as her eyes lit up, her grin shining through the previous melancholy.

"Really?" His twin asked, her eyes alight with happiness. He smiled softly and nodded back.

"Of course Mabes. Just make sure you get back by noon, so we don't leave without you."

Mabel let out a soft squeal as she threw her arms around him, an embrace they did not usually take part in. He smiled to see his sister happy. It made any disappointment he might have felt disappear, knowing that it would make Mabel's sadness go away. His twin shined too brightly to be muddied by the darkness of pain.

"Okay, Dipper. I'll also make sure to get our clothes, from the tailor. The ones that are done, anyway. Want me to get you anything while onshore?"

"Nah. I'll be fine. Go enjoy yourself, don't worry about me."

"Okay. See you later?"

"See you later."

Dipper watched as the girl put the mop down, grinning as she headed for the gangplank that gave them passage from the ship to the shore. He returned to his chores a moment later, knowing that his great uncle would crucify him if he did not finish his- and now his sister's- work.

By the time lunch came around, Dipper was dripping with sweat. Doing twice the usual amount of work was tough, his arms and back aching as he headed down into the mess hall. Since they were still onshore, there was no formal lunch, which meant that everyone could just grab whatever food they wished for from the chef. He could see that many of the sailors were either still in bed, or still onshore, only the ones who had helped with setting out for sea that morning in the mess hall with him. He did not see either Wendy or Soos, so he sat by himself at his usual table, the salted beef tough on his tongue. After eating food that was not just preserves, eating this salted beef was almost torture. Better than what they could get while in the middle of the ocean, yes, but far inferior to anything he could find on land.

Mabel returned a little later than he had requested, though it was clear why when he saw her carrying all the new clothing they had went and bought. Putting aside the rope he had been carrying, he went over to her and took half the load, helping her to carrying it onto the ship. He listened as she happily spoke of what she had done on land with a small smile on his face, though Dipper could see her taking wistful glances behind them, even as they entered the darkness of the below decks. He knew that while she tried to make the best of her life at sea, it was always difficult for her to leave land when they left it. He understood. After a life living on land in opulence, living on a relatively small, almost dingy ship was not something one ever really got used to. But they made the best of their situation, taking it with as much grace as they could. And it wasn't all bad; their great uncle did seem to care about them, at times, and they had learned a lot about the sea. Which was something.

It was still hard to return to the ship sometimes. It was harder for Mabel than it was for him, though. Mabel needed to be free, to not be confined. Him? He could deal with staying inside for days, weeks even. He didn't need social contact like his twin did. He still felt the boredom of a life at sea, but not as keenly as Mabel felt it. Not as long as he had things to keep him occupied.

Regardless, this was their life, as it would be for the foreseeable future, until they were deemed old enough for their estate. Technically, he was already old enough if he wanted it, but he did not feel he was ready. And his sister would not get their estate, not before he did.

Entering their cabin, he shook off the melancholy thoughts and helped his sister organize the clothing. Since they were earlier than they had originally stated, he only had two of his three shirts and pants, though Mabel still had her one new dress, which she hurriedly put on, as he politely looked away. He had to admit it looked nice on her, from a brotherly stand-point. The light pink and white fabric of the dress fit her skin tone -and personality- well. Whoever this seamstress was, she was excellent. Even his simple cotton shirts and pants were well made, despite the rushed production.

They only had a small amount of time to spend loitering in their cabin before they heard the bell that indicated they would be leaving port soon. Following his sister upstairs, they checked in with their great uncle before helping the crew hoist the sails and set the rigging. Mabel was careful to keep her new dress clean, though.

By the time the sun was high in the sky, everyone was back on board and their great uncle was giving the order to leave port. He watched, a bit wistfully, as they left the shore for the open ocean. Mabel looked worse than he did, though, so he put his arm gently around her shoulder for support. She gave him a small smile, which he returned. He wondered, briefly, if she would ever truly get over the loss of what they used to have. Of their family. He doubted it. He never would.

They stood there, watching as land grew farther and farther away, until they could barely see it. Still they stood, letting the sounds of the ship and its inhabitants lull them. It wasn't until their great uncle called them to help with a problem below deck that they moved, their trance broken. The rest of the day passed in a haze, his mind wandering even as he did the tasks his great uncle had for him. While he didn't mind life at sea, leaving land would always remind him of the first time he had stepped on this ship, fifteen and afraid. He hated that feeling. This feeling.

Sleep did not come easy for either of them that night. Dipper could hear his twin tossing and turning for hours. He could guess what she was thinking.

Fire. The glint of a blade. The scent of burning flesh. The metallic taste of blood. She knew it much better than he, so he didn't blame her for her restlessness. There was also the fact that now that they had no distractions, the threat of pirates was much more real once again. Dipper could still feel the piercing gaze from the wanted poster that he kept in his boot. Could still feel his instincts screaming at him, begging him to run and never come back. To take his sister and leave.

But he was in a ship in the middle of nowhere. Where could he go?

So he'd do nothing. He'd prepare, do his best to make sure nothing happened to Mabel. To keep Mabel happy and safe. When sleep finally took him, he dreamed of the man on the poster, his blade inches from his neck as he grinned manically at him. As he burned the ship around them, setting everything ablaze.

It seemed that Dipper never could escape the fire.

~XoxoxoxoxoxoX~

The day that followed was the same as it always was. He woke at dawn, ate the meager breakfast they were given, before helping get the ship ready to sail again. He'd then head back to his room to read his books, not able to stand being so close to the ocean with everything swirling in his mind. Every cloud he saw reminded him of a pirate ship. Every sound caused his heart to stop. Maybe one day, he'd get over his fear. But not then. Not after only a year. Not when he could still remember.

He now kept the poster of that pirate in the breast of the worn jacket he wore to keep the chill sea air from freezing him. He didn't know why he kept it so close. Perhaps it reminded him of everything he wanted to forget; reminded him why he couldn't forget. Or perhaps he wanted to torment himself. To fill himself up with fear and hatred. He shuddered as he forced his thoughts off pirates, and back on the book in his hands.

The book he was reading was interesting, he thought, which he was glad about. It kept his attention, helped his mind settle. It allowed him to forget, to not feel the crushing fear. It was an adventure, about a man who thought he was a knight of old, and his faithful squire. He liked it. It was funny, yet tragic. Engaging to read.

The next several days passed in a similar fashion. Wake, get dressed, eat breakfast, do chores, etcetera, etcetera. He could feel the fear wax and wane. He could feel his mind relaxing, only for it to bring to thought the glint of fire on a blade. Of a man he had never officially met, but feared and hated nonetheless. Of a name on a poster and the manic grin on an aristocratic face. That would set the panic back in.

He hid it, of course. From his sister, from his great uncle. From Wendy and Soos. They didn't need to know how terrified he was. He watched as Mabel started getting livelier as the days passed, as the watchman didn't spot the pirate ship again. As the tense look in his great uncle's eyes left, replaced by the usual bravado as the man spoke of the next place they would stop to sell his goods. The threat was lessening by the day. So why did his gut still scream at him?

It wasn't until one day, five days after the last pirate spotting- two days since they had left port- that anything happened.

He had been asleep. Troubled and worried. He tossed and turned in his bed, his mind full of horrors. When he woke with a start, he was unsure at first what had woken him. But he saw his twin on her own bed, jerking up and awake. With a hazy mind, he distantly heard the warning bell from the night watchman. He could smell smoke, could feel the ship jolting in the water. With a jolt of fear, he realized he knew what this meant. He knew what was happening. His gut had been right.

Leaping out of bed, he dove for the dagger his great uncle had gifted him, as well as his worn jacket, tossing Mabel hers, stuffing his feet into his boots. He then dragged her up and out of their room, knowing they'd be sitting ducks if they stayed. He could see his twin's confused and terrified face, but he couldn’t stop to reassure her. He couldn't stop to even fully take in what was happening himself. He only really knew one thing.

He had been right all along. They hadn't been safe.

They were under attack.

By pirates.


	4. The Beginning of the End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are y'all ready for this? Stuff goes down in this chapter. 
> 
> Hope you all had a good Halloween. I didn't. I've been sick for the past several days, coughing and sneezing while lying in bed, mildly delirious. Good news is that I managed to write the next chapter of this story! Bad news is that it's really long, kind of rambling, and goes out of character. Oops. Well, y'all won't be seeing it for a while; it's chapter 14. Hopefully between now and then I'll get it back into what I want it to be. I've kind of lost track of the characters, so I'm kind of struggling to keep up with what I'm writing. I see the end, though. Probably won't be anymore than... 5 chapters? So this story should total at no more than 19-20 chapters. Maybe less. 
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is probably one of my favorites. I hope you all like it, too. We finally get to see Bill! That's good, depending on your definition of good. Oh, and I feel I should mention that I wrote this chapter before Dipper and Mabel Vs. The Future aired. I totally called Dipper's awesomeness. 
> 
> Remember to review/comment! They keep me going during the long hours of struggling with my own morality while writing this story. I'm excited at the reception this story has gotten, though I'm so concerned I'm gonna mess this up somehow. Here's hoping I don't. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Update (8/30/17): The wonderful Teardropdew drew another lovely piece of art for this story, and I thought it would go well in this chapter. It should be visible at the end. ^-^

"Dipper. What do we do?" Mabel whispered at him, clutching his arm as they heard the sounds of battle raging over their heads. Dipper didn't know what to say. What to do. He felt as lost as she did, stranded in the hallway between their room and the outside. He felt numb as he heard screams of pain, screams of joy. He was frozen, unable to answer his sister. He knew she expected him to have an answer, he always had an answer, but not now. Not now.

It was only when he heard the door to the upper decks open that he moved, dragging his sister further back into a dark corner on instinct, hidden from the entranceway. He pressed her against the wall, hiding her body with his. He could hear as shouts of exuberance echoed down the hall, hooting and hollering from ragged voices. He prayed to whatever god that was listening that they wouldn't be seen. That they would be okay. He could feel his sister shaking beneath him and he hated it, but what could he do? Where could they go? They couldn't stay here; they'd get caught as soon as the pirates came back from wherever they were headed. They couldn't go to the lower decks, or else they might get caught by a cannonball, or by a pirate pillaging their ship. And they couldn't go to the upper decks, or else they'd get caught up in the fighting. They were trapped, and he hated it.

"Dipper," Mabel breathed, terror written plain on her face. The hallway was dark, but light was streaming in from above, allowing him to see her terror struck face. He could see that she was remembering, as he was remembering, and he couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. It was so similar; so, so similar. They had met with pirates before while on board the ship, but never like this. Those pirates never got past the upper decks. It had never felt like that night. Not like it did now.

"It'll be okay, Mabel. I promise. We're going to be okay," he whispered, even if he didn't believe it, feeling his sister shake with ragged breaths, her skin pale and bloodless in the pale light. He needed her to be okay. He needed her to not freak out. He needed to think.

They had to move. He could hear the shouts of the pirates echoing the hallway, getting louder, and he knew they had to go somewhere. Up or down, which one? Trap themselves below the decks, or try and go up to freedom, but perhaps get caught by a pirate's blade? He was frozen for a moment, but his decision was made for him when he heard a pirate shout and the cocking of a gun. He heard his sister scream, but he didn't think as he grabbed her and pushed for the doorway to the upper deck, a bullet lodging into the wall inches from where his head had been.

He heard the pirate following them, but he kept running, holding his sister tightly by the hand. He daren't let her go, not for a second, not for an instant. She was all he had left, he'd rather die before he lost her. They climbed the stairs and entered a nightmare come true.

Fire was everywhere. The ship had caught fire. He could see it flaming around them, could smell the sickening scent of smoke. He nearly gagged as he took the sight in, pausing for only a scant second before pulling his sister along. She resisted, her own fear stopping her, but he dragged her. They couldn't stop, they had pirates on their heels. They had pirates down their backs. They had to run.

The sounds of screams were louder up here than they were down below. He saw as many sailors laid on the ground, unmoving. Dead, or hurt? He didn't know. He could see blood mixing with salt water on the deck, thick, red, and slick. He made sure to tighten his grip on his sister, dragging her along to the upper deck. To the forecastle. There wasn't much fighting there, he could see. They, they'd be safe there. They had to be.

Before he could reach the steps that would gain him entrance to the forecastle, to safely, he could feel his sister tugging on his hand, insistent. He could hear her voice shouting at him, full of terror and fear, but he didn't know what she was saying. His ears weren't working, the raging fire too loud, too deafening. He wanted to scream back, to tell her to follow him, to get to safety, but when he looked back at her he could see that she was pointing, her finger shaking. He looked on instinct, and saw what had scared her enough to stop their bid for freedom. He felt his blood run cold.

It was him. The man from the poster that he still carried by his breast. The man with the manic grin and the piercing eye. The man who made him want to run and never come out. Dressed in yellow and black he stood, laughing a high pitched laugh, tall and intimidating. But that wasn't the part that made his blood run cold. It wasn't what made him want to throw up. No. It was the fact that the man was facing off against his great uncle and captain. And he was winning.

Dipper could only stare as he stood, frozen. He felt Mabel tugging his hand, begging him to do something, to help, but he stood his ground. He didn't know what to do. He needed to get Mabel to safety. He needed to help his great uncle. He needed. To do something. Anything. But instead he hesitated. Frozen. Afraid.

He heard Mabel scream again, before a piercing pain hit his shoulder. He screamed as he dropped his sister's hand to clutch at the wound, turning to see that a pirate had come up behind him as he had stood frozen and had swung his blade at him. He could feel blood, warm and sticky, coat his right hand. He distantly felt regret at ruining his shirt, the new one Mabel had found for him while on shore. He gasped as his pain radiated, so sharp he wanted to cry.

He watched as the pirate lifted his blade again, and Dipper wondered if this was it. If this was how he would die, trapped on a ship miles and miles from shore. If he would burn. He could only stare as the blade came closer, time slow. He couldn't move. He needed to move. He wanted to move. He was scared. No. He was terrified.

A moment before the blade hit him, a moment before he left this world behind, a force tackled the pirate from the side, sending the blade scattering off on the ground. Dipper was shaking as he saw a flash of orange-red, not as bright as blood, blowing in the breeze as its owner wrestled the pirate to the ground. He looked into the face of his friend and saw her lips forming words, words he couldn't hear over the blood rushing in his ears. He felt someone taking his hand, tugging him, pleading at him, and he understood.

Run.

He looked at his sister, tears flowing down her face, and he gripped her hand tightly. His arm ached, his heart was racing, but she needed him. She needed him. He had to save her. Save Mabel. He couldn't give up.

So he ran. Not up, to safety, but forward. To their great uncle. She was saying something, but he didn't hear. He knew he should get her to safety, but their great uncle needed them, he was nearly on the ground now, and she'd never forgive him if he left the man to die. She loved their great uncle with all her heart, it would destroy her to watch him die. It would destroy him. To save Mabel, he had to save Stan. To save himself, he had to save Stan. He had to.

They dodged fights, slipping through cracks, tripping pirates as they ran. He heard as men screamed in pain, but he couldn't stop to help them. He couldn't help them. He shook as he ran, wanting to throw up.

He skidded to a halt when he reached the fight he had been wanting to find. Dipper watched as the pirate captain stood above his great uncle, blade held loosely in his hand as he grinned down at his prey. Dipper could see the man's mouth moving, forming words, taunts he assumed. He still could not hear above the roaring in his ears. He let go of his sister, knowing he had to grab his dagger, the dagger he needed to help his great uncle. The dagger his great uncle had gifted him. He hoped his sister would understand.

"Don't hurt him! Don't you dare hurt him!" He heard himself scream, felt the words tumble from his lips, startling the demon in yellow. Just as the man was turning, the sardonic grin focussing now on him, Dipper pounced. He tackled the pirate to the ground, away from his great uncle, away from his sister. He may not be that strong, but he was tall. He was lean. He had the advantage of surprise on his side as he struggled with the pirate on the ground, the man's blade scattering away from them as they fought.

"You won't hurt him. You won't hurt her. I won't let you. _I won't let you,_ " he growled as they grappled on the ground. He could distantly hear the ragged breaths of his great uncle, though he was unable to see the man from his position. The demon in yellow growled back, his thin face twisted in fury now that his kill was taken from him. His left eye was alight with deadly fire, the other covered by an ornate golden eyepatch.

At one point, Dipper's right hand managed to get out of the grip the pirate captain had it in, and he lifted his dagger high in the air, slamming it down at where the man's head was. Kill, not kill, he didn't care. He was scared, wounded, in pain. This man- no, this _demon_ \- was the cause. Would it be so bad if his blow killed?

He would not be able to find out the answer to his question, because at the last moment the man moved, the dagger leaving only a scratch on the man's right cheek before it imbedded itself into the deck below. He watched as the pirate's face filled with dark fury, a snarl on his lips as the man finally gained the advantage and flipped their positions, Dipper slamming hard on the deck as the monster leered cruelly above him. He struggled, trying to regain his advantage, but the pirate straddled him, holding his hips and legs down, pinning his arms above him with one hand. Dipper couldn't move, couldn't breathe as the demon's face moved inches above his own, rancid breath causing him to gag. The man growled something at him, harsh words that chilled Dipper despite the fact he couldn't hear them. He wanted to cry, wanted to beg for freedom, but he couldn't. He let out a gasp of pain as his shoulder was roughly pushed against the ground, the demon moving for something at his waist, the manic grin returning as he freed it. The demon's own dagger. Sharp and glinting in the fire's glow. Dipper felt his breath catch in his throat as his heart constricted, eyes widened.

The monster growled more words at him, still harsh but now mildly amused as he stared down at him with a glowing eye. The monster ghosted the blade down Dipper's cheek, causing him to gasp in fear. He was afraid. He was going to die. He was going to die. He knew it. He saw the dark intent in the demon's eye, could see the glee he felt. Dipper began to shudder, but he refused to cry. He stared up at the demon and bared his teeth, pushing up again as he tried in vain to dislodge the pirate from his perch. He didn't want to die. Not like this. Not passive, not by the hands of a pirate. What cruel irony that this was how he would go. Whatever god that was watching must be laughing.

He had moments left. He could see the dagger inches from his eye, inches from lodging itself in his brainstem. He fought, he snarled, he cried out in pain but he couldn't give up. God, Mabel. He couldn't leave her alone! She needed him! He saw in horror as the blade lowered, so close that if he blinked his lid would be cut. He couldn't breathe now, couldn't move. He stared at what would soon bring him his doom and sent out a silent apology. To Mabel. To his parents. To Wendy, and Soos, and Stan, and everyone he had failed. Everyone he was leaving behind. He laid back on the ground, and tried to make peace with his upcoming death. It didn't work, but he had to try. He didn't want to die afraid.

He stared at the blade millimeters from his eye and counted the seconds. He heard the blood pounding in his head, in his ears. One. Two. Three. Seconds passed, and still the blade hung above his eyes. Why wasn't the monster killing him already? What was he waiting for? For him to beg? Well he refused! The demon wouldn't listen to him if he did, pirates didn't know mercy, and he wouldn't degrade himself just for the demon's amusement. He refused. He _refused_.

Suddenly, a bell rang. Loud, piercing. He saw the dagger above his eye jerk, causing his heart to stop yet again, but it did not descend into his eye. Instead it just hung there for a moment, motionless. Dipper felt his eye scream, wanting to blink but unable to. His mouth was dry as he stared. What was the demon waiting for?! This waiting was torture, was hell. If he was going to die, just do it already!

But then, suddenly, the blade was gone. Dipper barely had time to understand what had happened before he was getting yanked upwards slightly, his legs still pinned but his torso now suspended in the air, his arms limp behind him.

"Consider this your lucky day, Pine Tree," a voice hissed directly in his ear, before he was dropped back to the ground, the weight on his legs disappearing, the sound of running feet filling the air a moment later.

Dipper didn't know what to think. What to feel. His mind was racing but no thought was able to be processed. He could only lie on the ground and breathe, huge shuddering gasps that wracked his body.

He was alive. He was _alive_. He was still amongst the living. He was still breathing. He wasn't dead. He took another shuddering breath as that sunk in. _He wasn't dead._  

A moment passed in shock before he got up, shaking. Part of him wanted to stay on the ground forever, trying to come to terms with the fact that _he wasn't dead,_ but he needed to find Mabel. He needed to make sure she was alright. He knew she wasn't still around him, because otherwise she would have tried to stop the pirate from nearly killing him, but where was she?

He looked around, trying to spot her. His head throbbed but he had to find her now. He needed to know his sister was still alive. He heard a groan of pain come from his right and he turned to look, watching his great uncle as he laid on the ground, clutching his gut. Concerned, Dipper rushed to the man's side, gasping as he saw the foot long gash in his great uncle's stomach. He was about to put pressure on it, like he had learned from a book, when his great uncle grabbed his wrist in midair. Dipper tried to say that the man needed help, that he needed to get the bleeding to stop, but he was interrupted by his great uncle's frantic words. Dipper, his ears still pounding with blood and pain, only heard it distantly, but what he comprehended made his blood freeze for the tenth time that day.

"Mabel. Dipper, they got Mabel. S-she, she got taken. Dipper, they took Mabel," he heard his great uncle repeat, the man's grip on his wrist bruising. Dipper could see the fear in the man's eyes, but it was nothing compared to the terror Dipper felt.

Mabel. Mabel. They had Mabel. No... No! No! Dipper broke the grip his great uncle had on his hand and stumbled back. No. Not Mabel. Not his sister. She... They couldn't have Mabel. He was supposed to _protect_ her. She couldn't... They couldn't... _No_. 

Dipper looked over to the pirate ship, still anchored right beside their own, and he felt himself stand and run. He didn't think, couldn't think. He slipped on the blood and salt water on the ground, but he didn't stumble. His eyes were set on the ship. He could see his sister, now, a pirate holding her arms behind her as a few others leered at her. He could hear her screaming, hear her begging them to let her go. He could feel rage fill his heart at the sight, rage blinding him as he rushed to the edge of his great uncle ship. He could see that the plank the pirates had used to board their ship was gone, but he didn't care. He didn't think, didn't even try and talk himself out of it before he jumped, leaped from his ship to the pirate's ship. He stumbled, only briefly, on the landing, but otherwise he was fine. He had made it. He didn't even care as he snarled at the pirates who surrounded his twin. Nothing mattered. Nothing, but Mabel. But his sister. Innocent, sweet Mabel who didn't deserve to be held captive by a band of filthy pirates. He'd rather die than know she was in the hands of these vermin.

He watched as the ones who were leering at his twin turned to face him, shock and anger on their faces. One of them charged at him, but he side-stepped. While he had never been good at sword fighting, when his parents had forced him to take it all those years ago, he had always been good at dodging and at evasive maneuvers, as he was very quick. The pirate turned quickly, but Dipper had already tripped the man, sending him tumbling to the ground, his sword flying from his hands. Dipper caught it quickly, on instinct. He then, without thought, slashed towards the remaining two pirates, catching them by surprise. They didn't have time to raise their blades before he had slashed into their arms, legs, chests; whatever he could reach. They dropped and he couldn't even feel relieved as he turned to the last one. The one who was still holding his sister. The one who now had a blade under his sister's neck.

Dipper felt his heart stop as he looked. No. He looked Mabel in the eyes and saw her fear. Saw the tears as they flowed down her face. He didn't know why they had taken his twin, what they wanted with her, but he wouldn't let them hurt her. He wouldn't let them kill her. So he lowered his blade, and he waited. He hoped.

He watched, as the pirate lowered his blade, his eyes fixed on something- someone- behind Dipper, but Dipper didn't care. He had his opening. He rushed forward, heart racing, and he slashed at the arm that was confining his twin. He heard the pirate curse loudly, and let go of his twin as he clutched his now bleeding arm. But he didn't care. He didn't see. Nothing mattered other than the fact that Mabel was free.

He let out a soft gasp as he looked at her, her eyes wide as she pulled away from the pirate. She ran over to him, trying to embrace him, but he couldn't let her. He knew that there were pirates at his back, knew that while she was no longer confined, she was far from free. Knew that if he waited, if he let the pirates catch up to him, she would get captured again. He looked over to the edge of the ship, the railing parting slightly, and he did the only thing he could do to possibly save his twin. He smiled at her as she reached him, before pushing her overboard, her wide, terrified eyes the last thing he saw before his arms were grabbed from behind, his wound getting pulled painfully, causing him to scream with pain. But it didn't matter. Mabel was safe. Mabel… Mabel would be okay. She could swim, he knew she could. She'd live. Nothing else mattered but that. Not the blade at his throat, not the threat of his own death; nothing.

He shuddered as the pirate painfully gripped his arms, the adrenaline draining as reality came back. He could see, distantly, as a group of pirates came closer to him, their blades raised, but he found he didn't care. He was too tired to care. He was drained from the past several minutes - _minutes, it had only been minutes since this all had started_ \- and couldn't find it in him to care. He didn't know where he had gotten the energy to save his twin from, but it was gone now. Faded as he stared at his doom, yet again. He could taste blood in his mouth. But he couldn't find it in him to feel any fear. The time for fear had passed. Now, he was just numb. Death didn't matter, now. He was resigned to it.

"Well, well, well. What have we here, lads? A hero?" He heard a voice muse, high pitched and ringing, and unfortunately familiar. He watched as the group of pirates in front of him parted, a single figure standing in front of him, a sardonic grin on his face. Dipper could see the scratch that he left on the demon's cheek, blood still flowing sluggishly from it. He hoped that it hurt. That it stung.

"Interesting. You don't look like much, do you?" The pirate continued to muse as he stood in front of him, head tilted. The previous rage that Dipper had seen in the monster's eye was gone, replaced by a certain kind of manic glee. "But you just bested me. You just bested four of my men. How curious."

A slow grin appeared on the pirate's face. Sharp, deadly. Dipper could feel the beginnings of fear creeping in once more as he watched. Insane. This... This _demon_  was insane. There was no doubt about it. He wondered what type of death the man would derive for him.

"But now, what should I do with you? Should I kill you? Run you through with my blade and toss your body over board?" At this, there was a cheer coming from the crew, causing the pirate's grin to widen. Dipper bared his teeth in a pale imitation of his previous nerve, not wanting to be seen as submissive. A beat passed before the demon continued on. "Or should I keep you. The brave little sailor who could. I'm sure a boy like you would fetch a pretty penny in the slave trade. They always like the daring ones; you're always so much more fun to break. And you, you would make a good slave. Hmm. Decisions."

Dipper felt his eyes widen as the pirate captain stared at him. Fear hammered in his heart now, his previous bravado gone, his numbness gone. He hadn't expected that. He hadn't expected them to keep him, alive. He had expected death for his insolence. Now, now he was scared; terrified. He could feel the ship moving, could feel as the waves rocked them, taking him farther and farther from his ship. His sister was safe, yes. But he wasn't. And that was just now sinking in. After all, there were worse things in life than death. He waited with bated breath as the pirate captain debated with himself, his grin still wide when he finally spoke again.

"I think… I think I'll keep you. You're no good to me, dead. But alive…" the demon trailed off as he chuckled, his eye alight with glee. "Nicholas, take him down to the brig. Secure him, tightly. We don't want any daring escapes, now do we? The rest of you, get back to work. I want the loot we gained from that ship sorted by morning."

With that, the demon turned, his long, yellow coat billowing in the wind. Dipper felt himself get dragged, and he tried to fight, tried to get away, but he was too tired. His muscles ached from the previous exertion, his head was pounding from the contact with the deck earlier. The pirate holding him dragged him along, down below the deck, into a part of a ship that he had never seen, not even on The Mystery. Getting tossed into the cage, he fell onto the ground hard, his wrist protesting at the harsh treatment. He heard the steel door slam shut, could hear as footsteps marched away from him. He shivered, despite his coat, as his reality sunk in.

He was a prisoner. To a pirate. To an insane, _demon_ of a pirate.

The last thought he had, before he passed out from the shock and pain, was the hope that Mabel was alright. That Stan was alright.

It would be worth it, if they were alright.

* * *

 

  
(Art by [Teardroppeddew](https://teardroppeddew.tumblr.com/))


	5. Terror in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ:  
> Note that this chapter contains attempted rape. If this is something that you are not comfortable with, skip the section that begins and ends with two asterisks. (**)
> 
> Now that the warning is over with: Hey everyone. So, I'm posting a day early. Why? Because I have school things tomorrow, and I don't want to have to be distracted if they take longer than planned. Plus I was anxious to get this chapter out. 
> 
> I've got to admit, there is a lot I want to say before this chapter gets posted. One being that I'm blown away by the reception this story had gotten. Blown away, and terrified. Why terrified? Because I'm a self-loathing perfectionist who does not like this story and fears that I will disappoint all of you. So yeah. There's a lot more I want to say along those lines, but I won't. Because I made a promise to myself a year or so ago that I would stop sabotaging my work, and if I speak of my dislikes, I will likely be sabotaging myself yet again. And I don't want that. Just know that I am not happy with how this story, over all, turned out. I hope that you all like it, but if you do not, know that I understand. 
> 
> Also, I use 'pirate speak' in this chapter. Basically, I found an online pirate translator and put my dialogue in there, and got how a pirate would say the words (allegedly). If you do not understand them, just send me a message and I'll translate for you. Also, Dipper is a bit naive. Just saying. He also has a concussion and is kind of confused throughout the majority of this chapter and part of the next. 
> 
> Please continue to review/comment. I really do not like my writing, in general, so knowing some people do is a comfort. And if you do not like it, it helps to know what I'm doing wrong.
> 
> Enjoy.

Dipper woke to an intense pain in his arm and his head, causing him to groan. He tried to roll over onto his side, but was stopped when his arms refused to move. Confused, he opened his eyes slightly, trying to figure out what was going on. His head was fuzzy, and he didn't quite know where he was. It took him a while to get his eyes to focus in the dim lighting, but when he finally could see clearly, he felt his eyes widen as he saw dark bars. As he smelled the scent of dying fish and rotten salt water. As he, regrettably, realized where he was. As he remembered what had happened.

The ship had been attacked. He had taken Mabel and had tried to get to safety. He had tackled a pirate captain to save his great uncle. He had nearly been murdered by said pirate captain. Mabel had been taken captive. He had saved Mabel. He had been taken captive. _He was a captive_.

Parts of his memory were still a bit fuzzy, the whole night a blur of panic and fear. He kept getting parts of it confused with another night, so similar that he wasn’t sure he hadn’t been transported back in time. Some aspects of the night were clearer, while others still remained muddied by pain, shock, and painful memories. But the one thing he remembered, clearly, was his sister. And what he had done.

As he sat up, gingerly to keep his head from aching too badly, part of him felt shocked at what he had done while saving his twin, how he had taken down four pirates that were at least twice his width and likely thrice his strength. He recalled reading somewhere that adrenaline made people do seemingly impossible feats, but he still felt befuddled as to what he had done, it was just so bizarre. Perhaps a god really had been listening to him, after all. He supposed, though, that whatever had caused his actions didn’t really matter. After all, while he may be trapped on a pirate ship with little hope of escaping, at least his sister was okay. Well, he hoped that she was okay. He was sure she would have been able to swim back to the ship, that the ship's damage couldn't have been that bad. He was _sure_  of it. Yet, in this dark prison, his head pounding, he couldn’t help but feel a lingering doubt in his mind. That by shoving his sister off the ship to save her, he had doomed her instead. He shuddered lightly at the thought, which made a jangling sound occur. What the… looking at his arms, he noticed that there were thick, heavy, metal manacles covering his thin wrists.

When had those appeared? He stared at the manacles, thick chains that led behind him, moving his arms to test their resistance. He winced a bit as he pulled his left shoulder, which stung bitterly, but fought through the pain and kept lifting so he could examine them. The manacles were heavy, but not so heavy that he couldn't move. They looked pretty strong, though, so there was no hope of breaking them. He absently wondered how long they were, if he was even more trapped than he had originally thought. In order to test their length, he stood up, wobbling a bit, and walked as far from the wall as possible. It was difficult to do, his mind and shoulder rebelling the movement, but he did it and distantly noticed that he had about four feet of movement in either direction, which allowed him reign of nearly the entire cell. The place where the manacles were positioned on the wall, near the floor, would likely allow him to lie down to sleep at night with them on. Probably for the convenience of the pirates, he thought resentfully. He could feel his head was getting lighter with dizziness, so he quickly sat back down before he passed out again. The pirates had probably put these on him while he had been passed out, to keep him from escaping. He shuddered at the thought.

His examination of his restraints done with for the moment, Dipper then put his attention on his wound, which was now throbbing. He couldn't really turn his arm that much with the restraints, but he could see that the entirety of his left sleeve was now coated with blood. The wound was probably deep, then. Hopefully not too deep, he thought worriedly. He doubted that the pirate ship's infirmary was a place he ever wanted to visit. They might just take his arm off for the hell of it. He'd need to clean it the first chance he got. He had read a book on medicine and first aid, once, and it said that if you didn't clean wounds they could get infected and need to be amputated. Dipper liked his arm, thank you very much, so losing it was not in his plans. He doubted he'd get any herbs or alcohol, but maybe the pirates would give him some water. It was an essential for life, which surely the pirates knew... If they really wanted to sell him, he doubted they would let him die. Right?

Unless, of course, this was all a game to them. Pirates were sick and twisted; he wouldn't be surprised if they kept him just to watch him suffer. Perhaps they didn't even want to sell him. Perhaps they spared his life just so they could watch him die a slower, much more painful death. He shuddered once more at the thought.

Well, for the moment he'd be unable to do anything. With no water, he'd not be able to clean his wound, and it wouldn't really help if he wrapped it or not, not if it wasn't cleaned, especially since he wasn't really bleeding heavily anymore. Plus, he had nothing to wrap it with. He had noticed absently a little while ago that he no longer had his coat. He struggled for a minute, then, to think of why, but eventually settled on it most likely having gotten taken when the manacles had been put on. Which meant that now he just had his thin shirt and pants to tear up to make bandages. And if it got as cold down here as it got in the lower decks of his great uncle's ship, he'd need every layer he had.

Letting out a sigh, he leaned back again the hard wooden wall behind him. This was bad. This was very, very bad. He didn't think that he regretted saving his twin. Knew that he'd never regret that. He'd was positive that he’d never wish his sister to be here in his stead. He knew what pirates did to woman. He could take whatever they threw at him, but Mabel wouldn’t have been able to. So no, he didn't regret it. But he couldn't say that he enjoyed the fact he was taken captive by pirates. Who knew what would happen to him, down here. Who knew what they would do to him. He heard tales of horror that prisoners on pirate ships went through, none of them comforting. At least he wasn't a girl, though. What women went through while held captive by pirates was the worst thing that could happen to a person. Luckily, things like that couldn't happen to men.

Still, he knew that he would have to think of a way out. He had to at least try to escape. While he may not have much brawn, let it not be said that Dipper Pines was a pushover. He wouldn't sit here and wait for his sentence. He'd do his best to escape, even if it seemed hopeless. But not right now. Now, he would rest a bit. He would examine the ship around him, figure out a routine. There were no portholes down here, so he'd have to figure out time by the times he was given food and water. Assuming, of course, that they intended to feed him. He let out a long breath as he sat back, feeling his mind ache as he thought through everything. In order to save himself the headache, he stopped his thoughts, hoping that if he let himself rest, things would get better. God, he felt muddled.

Time passed as he sat in his cage, his mind blank. After a while he wanted to start thinking again, to come up with a plan, but he was just so tired. His head was still aching, and thinking made it pound. He wouldn't be surprised if that demon had really damaged his head when he had slammed him against the deck. He'd feel around for a bump, but he was afraid he might accidentally hit his head with the manacles, making things infinitely worse. So all he really could do was sit and stare into space, the sounds of the ship echoing around him. Unlike on his great uncle's ship, the Mystery, he didn't feel any comfort from these sounds. It was different here, even if they were similar enough. He couldn't really explain why, other than the fact that he knew that he wasn't safe here.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before he heard a door open. He hadn't moved at all since his examination of his cell. The longer he sat there, the number he began to feel. Everything was so real, down here in this dark, damp, and smelly prison. When he first woke, he was confused and muddled, trying his best to understand what had happened, thinking clinically about things. Now, as the minutes passed, he felt his confusion fading and his head clearing somewhat. He knew now that he wasn't scared, he wasn't angry. He was just numb, which he supposed was good. It was better than feeling utterly terrified. After all, he had enough time to feel afraid and angry later.

When he heard the door open, though, he didn't know what to feel. So he felt nothing and just turned his head to glare at the hulking pirate who was now leering down at him, a small plate of food and water in his hands. Ah, so they were feeding him, then. That was something, he supposed. At least he wouldn't die of starvation.

He watched passively as the pirate threw the food onto the ground, the water following, half of it splashing out of the cup. The pirate sneered at him once more before leaving, saying not a word. Dipper wasn't sure, but he thought that pirate might have been the one who had restrained his sister the other day. If so, he hoped the pirate's arm hurt painfully.

It took him a few moments to gain the energy to get up and crawl over to the food and water, his arm aching as he moved it. Now that he had some water he could finally clean it. His mouth was dry, but it was more important to not get an infection. He wouldn't die of dehydration for a week, but he could die of an infection within days if he wasn't careful. But, as reached the water and looked at it, he wasn't sure if he wanted to put it anywhere near his wound. It smelled, and it looked filthy. Part of him knew that if he cleaned his gash with this water, he might get an even worse infection, doing the exact opposite of cleaning it. He didn't even want to know what would happen if he drank it. So he turned from it, his nose crinkling with disgust, looking at the plate that was lying next to it.

The food wasn't all that much more appetizing, he noticed with a sinking heart. It was a single piece of bread, with mold over parts of it. He nearly gagged as he saw it, sending a quiet apology to the Mystery's chef. He knew that if he ever left this ship, he'd never complain about his food again. Not after seeing this revolting 'meal.' He decided, then, that he wasn't all that hungry, even as his stomach growled. With nothing over here to interest him anymore, he moved back over to the wall and went back to his previous position. Logically, he knew that one day he would have to eat the food he was given, while they still gave it, but he wouldn't until he was so starving that the mold wouldn't seem that unappetizing. He’d simply have to hope that he didn't get a disease from eating it.

Well, that had been bad. He let out a sigh, trying his best to sort through his thoughts as he sat against the hard wall behind him. So, it appeared that he’d be unable to wash his wound. He still needed to look at it, though, needed to see how bad it already was. He was sure there were other things he could do, to lessen the chances of infection. Things that he just couldn’t think of at that moment because of his aching head and muddled thoughts. But he… he was sure that he needed to see how deep it was. Right? God he was tired. He just wanted to sleep until his head stopped aching like it was. But… but he needed to find the strength to look at his wound. He was sure of that. And something about not falling asleep? For some reason? He didn’t really know. But he had to look at his arm. He didn’t want to die of an infection. Not after surviving a pirate attack. Nor did he particularly want to lose his arm, if he could help it.

With that settled, he carefully- knowing that if he went too fast he’d hurt his arm- rolled up his left sleeve. The wound was pretty high up on his shoulder, he felt that, but luckily it was in the front, not the back, so he would sort of be able to see it. He hoped. He let out a low hiss as he rolled the sleeve up past the wound, partially out of pain, but mostly because of how it looked.

He knew that this was not how a 'healthy' wound should look, even if he didn't have formal experience with wounds. It was about two or three inches wide, bright red and slightly puffy, with white pus crusting at the edges. He couldn't tell if it was infected yet or not, as he had never seen an infected wound, but it did not look good. As he looked, he knew that he needed to clean it, but with what? That water would just make things worse, he knew that. But if he left it alone, surely it would get more infected.

He let out a frustrated groan as he let his head lean back against the wall. This was the worst. Sitting here with no medicine, no clean water, and no bandages. He wished that he had read that medicine book more carefully, wished that it had informed him of what to do in situations like this. Wished that his head would stop hurting so he could properly think. He was alone and injured and scared whilst in the middle of a pirate ship. Just what the hell was he supposed to do in this scenario? He had no hope that the pirates would fix him up; if they hadn't while chaining him up and taking his coat, they wouldn't now.

This was all so hopeless, he thought miserably. He didn't want to die; he was only sixteen. He had a long life ahead of him. He was supposed to get married, have children; continue his family line. This wasn't how it was supposed to go! God, why did pirates have to ruin _everything_? He could feel tears gathering in his eyes as he thought of everything, a few shuddering gasps escaping his mouth against his will. He wanted to go home. He wanted his mother. He wanted his sister. He wanted to be safe and warm in his bed, he wanted this to all be a bad dream. But it wasn't. And he'd never get to go home again. Thanks to pirates.

Tears began to stream down his face then. He could feel that chilling numbness in his chest, but now he also felt hopelessness. And despair. And panic. What was the point, anymore? He was going to die here. God, he was going to _die_  here. Even if he somehow got his wound looked at and cleaned, he would not survive his experience on this ship. He knew it. He _knew_  it. And, even if he _did_ survive, he would just get sold to the highest bidder. Escape? What was the point? He was in the middle of the ocean; there was no escaping. Especially not with his arm busted. He could say all he wanted that he wouldn't give up, but let's face it. He had no hope of ever actually leaving this ship by his own volition. And he knew this.

By the time his tears dried up, Dipper was feeling even more light-headed and muddled. His stomach was growling and his wound screamed. It felt like fire. He closed his eyes for a moment, wanting to rest them. They were so heavy, and crying had made them feel puffy and sore. He ached all over and he just wanted to forget, if only for a moment. He didn’t care if he wasn’t supposed to sleep for whatever reason his muddled mind told him he shouldn’t.

He would deal with everything later. He would come up with a plan to escape, even if it wouldn't work, later.

For now, he would rest.

~XoxoxoxoxoxoX~

He didn't know when he fell asleep, but he felt himself jerk awake a while later, his back aching from sleeping in a seated position. He was unsure what had woken him, his mind sluggish from pain and sleep. He tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes, looking around, but was unable to see in the dim light. Was unable to understand anything with how his head still ached. It was only when he heard the thudding of feet on the wooden floor, the muttered voices outside his cell, that he realized he wasn't alone anymore. That he remembered, once again, just where he was. When he heard the lock on his cell door unlatch, he felt his heart start to race, fear creeping in. The pirates were in his cell. They had to be. But… but why? What were they going to do to him?

**"Looks like th' laddie be up, lads," he heard a gruff voice mutter, followed by dark chuckles. He felt his breath catch in his throat. He could barely understand them, their rough, uncultured accents harsh on his ears, but he knew the inflection they used. This was not boding well for him.

"Jolly. 'Tis more a ruckus 'tis way," a different voice replied, which made them all laugh again. Dipper's throat was dry as he stared at them, only able to see the outline of each pirate. He counted four, maybe five.

"W-what do you want from me?" He managed to question, his head pounding, his voice shaking from fear. One of the pirates snorted.

"Listen to his proper accent," the first pirate sneered, "What gunna we do to ye, laddie? Well, why don't ye find out?"

Suddenly, the pirates were moving. He felt one of them yank him upward, causing him to yelp with pain. That only seemed to amuse the pirate, who was grinning, his yellow teeth illuminated by the dim candle light. Dipper tried not to breathe, the pirate's breath rancid. Like rum and rot, he thought distantly as he leaned away. He didn't fight just yet, though. He needed to figure out what they were doing before he came up with a plan. If he could come up with one, that was. He still felt off and these pirates jerking him around was not helping.

"Ye're extra pretty, aren't ye, laddie?" The pirate holding him asked. He could feel a hand gripping his hair, which made him gasp with pain. He didn't know what was going on. His head ached, and the pirate pulling on it was just making everything worse. God, this made no sense. Their words, they made no sense. He was pretty? What did that have to do with anything? Just what were they going to do?

"Could almost pretend ye was a lass," another pirate piped in, this one grabbing at his shirt. Why... Why was he doing that? And what did he mean, they could almost pretend he was a girl? Dipper struggled a bit now, fear filling his heart. Were these pirates drunk? He thought they might be drunk. The pirate behind him grabbed him and started holding his arms down at his side, causing him to struggle more. He didn't understand what was happening, but his gut was telling him that it wasn't good. Definitely not… not good. At all.

But then, then he felt one of the pirates tugging at his trousers. Pulling them… pulling them down. And suddenly, like a bolt of lightning hitting him, he knew what was happening. He knew what these pirates wanted from him. Oh. Oh God. He gagged, his weak struggling intensifying infinitely. No. No. Nonononono. This... This didn't happen to men. It… It just _didn't_. He knew what pirates did to woman. Everyone knew. But men... Men were safe! You couldn't, couldn't do _that_  to another man! You, you just couldn’t!

But he felt his trousers getting tugged downward, and what else were these pirates trying to do to him? What else could they want that had his trousers and underthings pulled down to his ankles, his most private parts displayed to the world?

God, he was going to be sick. He struggled harder, kicking, fighting. He screamed, ignoring the ache it caused in his head, begging someone to help him, even though he knew no help would come. He was in the middle of a pirate ship, of course no help would come, but he couldn't help his frantic screams. The pirates didn't even bother to cover his mouth, seeming entertained by his screaming. One of the pirates tried to grab him, grab his... But he kicked, sending the pirate stumbling backwards. He was so weak, but he didn’t want them to touch him. He could feel the other pirates grabbing his legs, holding him down against the pirate that was forcing his arms to stay by his sides, and he did his best to fight, but he couldn't make them let him go. They were so much stronger than he was. He could feel tears streaming down his face, but he didn't care. He didn't care.

God, this couldn't be happening. He screamed yet again, pleading for someone to _help him,_  but he knew no one would come. There would be no daring escape, no rescue this time. He was trapped, and these pirates would do whatever it was that pirates did to men in their captivity. He let out a loud sob as that thought sunk in. _No_. Please God, no. He knew pirates hurt their prisoners, but he hadn't thought that they would do this. Not to him, not to a man. He had only been here a day, and yet it was already a personal hell. God, what had he done in life to ever deserve this?

Just as he felt one of the pirates grabbing him, his sobbing now loud and frantic, his head pounding to the point he could barely feel anything else, the door to the brig slammed opened, causing light to flood in. The pirate that was holding dropped him suddenly, causing him to cry out in pain, his arm hurting fiercely. But he didn't even think as he tugged his trousers and underthings back up, shuffling backwards until his back hit the wall, eyes wide and shifting as he tried to breathe. His chest was shuddering with frantic sobs, his heart was racing. His mind was muddled and afraid, barely able to comprehend what had just happened. What had almost happened.

**"Well, well, well. You lads having a party without me?" A high pitched voice rang out, causing Dipper to shiver with fear. Oh God. Oh no. This was worse. Much, much worse. He had thought that perhaps he had been saved, but now he knew that he hadn't. He had just upgraded his horror. He could feel the tears flooding down his face as he closed his eyes tight, naively hoping that this would all be a dream and that this wasn't happening right now. Why was this happening to him?

"No, cap'n. We were just havin' a wee bit o' a ruckus, that's all," one of the pirates claimed, shuffling slightly, sounding just a bit nervous. Dipper didn't care. He was barely paying attention, trying his hardest to not throw up.

"Oh really? 'Cause here I was, passing by on my nightly patrol of the ship, only to hear my prisoner screaming like a little girl. Care to explain to me why that was, mate?" The demon questioned, his tone pleasant, but with a dangerous edge hidden inside it. Dipper shivered again.

There was no reply this time. The only sound was of the shuffling of the pirates' feet on the wooden floor. A moment passed before he heard a dangerous chuckle escape the pirate captain.

"No answer? Very well."

Suddenly, Dipper was pushed to the side as the pirate captain grabbed the pirate who had spoken, the one who had initiated this whole thing, and slammed him against the wall, a knife under his throat. Dipper let out a startled gasp as he looked up, leaning back against his good arm.

"Tell me, did I authorize a 'wee bit o' a ruckus?'" The pirate captain hissed, pressing his blade closer to the pirate's throat. Dipper could see the pirate shaking his head furiously, only to get stopped by the captain pressing his blade closer. "I asked you a question!"

"N-no, cap'n!" The pirate gasped out. The captain growled.

"No. No, I did not. And yet, here we are. Tell me, do you think that you can just do whatever you please? That you're allowed to take from what belongs to me? Do you think you're my better? Do you think that _you_  should be captain?" The captain hissed, his teeth bared as the pirate shook his head once again.

"No! No I do not!"

"Then don't you ever, _ever_ , do something dealing with my prisoners without my explicate orders again. Do you understand me, worm?"

"Yarr! Yarr, I understand thee!"

"Good," the captain spat, before tossing the pirate to the side, forcing him to land on the ground beside Dipper, who hurriedly scrambled away despite the pain in his arm and head. The captain, seeing his movement, then turned his attention to Dipper, a wide, manic grin appearing on his face. Dipper felt his heart stop at the look, wondering what the demon was going to do to him. He noticed that while the captain seemed angry at these pirates, it didn't seem to be because of what they almost did to him. Instead, it was because they had done it without permission. That meant that this demon might still… that he might… that he was still in danger.

But nothing happened. Dipper watched in confusion as the captain grinned at him for a moment, before turning his attention back on the members of his crew.

"Listen here, and listen good. This boy is off limits, understand? He belongs to me. And you should all know by now that I do not share. If anyone so much as lays a finger on him, they will be walking the plank. Am I making myself clear?" The captain asked his crew with a raised eyebrow, which had them all frantically nodding.

"Aye, cap'n!" They all shouted, even the one who had been tossed onto the ground, though he sounded just a touch bitter.

"Good. Now be gone," the captain said, watching as all the pirates fled the room. If he hadn't been so terrified and addled, he'd find it funny to see such ragged men running away with their tails between their legs. But instead, all he felt was fear as he looked up at the pirate captain, realizing that they were alone now and that the pirate could do anything to him. Especially since he apparently 'belonged' to him. Whatever that meant.

But still the demon did nothing. He just stared down at him with that grin back on his face. Moments passed, their gazes locked- Dipper's terrified, the captain's amused- before the demon chuckled and walked over to the door, locking his cell as he left.

"See you tomorrow, Pine Tree!" The captain called over his shoulder before leaving the room, the brig darkening as the door slammed closed. Dipper felt his heart pound as adrenaline flowed through him, unsure what just happened.

Instead of trying to puzzle the captain's words and actions out, Dipper just laid down and tried to calm himself, sobs leaving his throat against his will as memories of the past several moments bombarded him. He didn't want to think of it, he didn't want to ever think again. He'd sort everything out when he woke. His head ached, his arm ached, and it was starting to dawn on him just how much trouble he was in, stuck here on this ship.

It was a while before he managed to fall back to sleep. And even then, it was troubled.

God he hoped nothing like that ever happened again.

He wasn't sure he would survive this if it did.


	6. Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting a day early again. Why? School stuff. Again. Government is the worst class ever. Ugh. Luckily I'm done with that class on Tuesday, so hopefully I'll be able to manage to keep to a Sunday schedule. 
> 
> This week has not been kind to me. Lots of bad things have happened, such as illness and the death of my guinea pig. So I've not been able to write much. Luckily I've gotten a bit of an idea of what to do next, so hopefully I'll be able to write more soon. I still have about nine-ten weeks before I run out of chapters to post (I've written up to chapter 15 and am currently writing chapter 16) so as long as I finish before then, I suppose it doesn't matter much. Just thought I'd mention it.
> 
> Thanks to all the kind words last week. They meant a lot to me. I'm still not particularly happy with this story, but I'll keep it to myself. I will say, though, that I change Bill's characterization a bit in this chapter. He's still the same as before, but more... gentle. Slightly. His thoughts will get explained soon, so if anyone is wondering 'What the hell is going on in Bill's mind?' well, you'll find out. Eventually. Also, there is some talk about the attempted rape in this chapter. That is marked by a single asterisk (*) before and after the section. It is only a brief paragraph at the beginning, so don't worry or anything.
> 
> And I think that's it. I'm trying (and failing it seems) to keep these notes shorter. I'm not having much luck, am I? Ah well. Remember to review/comment! If you have any thoughts on where you think this story is going, I'll be glad to hear them. I may or may not listen to them, depending, but it might give me inspiration or something. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Dipper woke in the morning with his entire body aching. His head, his back, his arm, and his legs. Part of him wished that he couldn't remember the previous night; that his mind would be so muddied and aching again that everything would have faded away. But that wasn't so. His head was much clearer than it had been the previous night, and he remembered, vividly, what had happened.

He took a shuddering breath as he sat up, looking around the dark and gloomy cell. He could feel himself shivering, and he wasn't entirely sure if it was because of the cold or not.

*Dipper had known that pirates were cruel. He had known that they tortured their prisoners, that they did their best to break them and make them submissive. That even the strongest of men would break at the hands of the cruelest pirates. But to do _that_  to him. To attempt to… to… it was unheard of. How would it even have worked, he wondered morbidly as he shivered. How would the pirates have derived pleasure from his body? Was it even possible for one man to get pleasure from another? Dipper had never heard anything like it. Though, he did have to admit he had lived a very sheltered childhood and didn't know much about the world because of it. Perhaps pirates just got pleasure from seeing people so utterly terrified. It wouldn’t surprise him.

*Well, regardless of the hows and the whys, he felt terrified. More terrified than he had been before, because now he knew what the pirates were capable of. That they could, and would, do unspeakable things to him. Well, he would just have to take it. He, he didn't want to give up. He refused to give up. Or at least, he refused to give the pirates the satisfaction of seeing him break. He couldn’t.

He decided then that he wouldn't think of what had happened and what had almost happened. It… he couldn't. Thinking of it made his stomach churn, and since he already had so little food in it, he didn't want to throw up. Throwing up acid was never fun.

But there was still one thing that puzzled him, about the happenings of the previous night. The pirate captain, the demon, had… saved him. In a roundabout way. But why? What did the captain want from him? Dipper recalled the captain claiming him as his own, saying that no other pirate could touch him. For what purpose? Was, was the captain going to do him what those pirates were trying to do last night? Or was he going to do something worse? Was he better or worse off now that he had been claimed by the insane monster who captained this ship of nightmares? He honestly didn't know. Maybe he wouldn't get touched by random pirates now, but that didn't mean that the captain would treat him any better than the rest of those demons. In fact, things might now be worse, since the captain was so insane, so demonic.

Dipper could feel tears gather in his eyes at the thought. Oh, just what had he gotten himself into? He hoped to God, or whoever out there that was listening, that his sister was alright, so that this all would have been worth it. If she was dead... If he had failed at saving her... God, he couldn't even think it. She had to be okay. Please, let her be okay.

Dipper took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He needed to calm down. He needed to think. He needed to breathe. Panicking would get him nowhere. He was Dipper Pines, he wasn't going to have a panic attack, not now. He'd had a bad batch of panic attacks right after his parent's death, and he knew that having one now would just make everything worse. He didn't have his great uncle there, to sit with him and give him support while his mind shut down with fear and panic. So he needed to calm down. He needed to relax and breathe. He'd survive this. He was Dipper Pines. The son of Edward and Diana Pines. Brother of Mabel Pines. He'd get through this. He had to.

After a while, after he had mostly calmed himself, Dipper tried to stand, his legs aching with the inactivity. He wanted to examine his cell, wanted to see if he could find a loose bar or something to help him escape. However, almost immediately after standing he found himself collapsing back to the ground, his head swimming and his shoulder throbbing. He let out a strangled cry as he landed on the ground, having instinctively used his arms to break his fall, which jarred his shoulder. He hadn't noticed it much before, his mind occupied with- and worrying about- other things, but now he was aware of just how painful his wound was. Like fire. He instinctively tried to clutch his shoulder to get the fire-like pain to stop, but all that did was make it worse. He almost didn't want to take a look, not wanting to see how bad it was. Because it had to be pretty bad, if it hurt like this. Yet, despite how much he feared looking, he knew he had to. He was sure that if he could look, he’d remember what it was he needed to do.

So, with great hesitation, Dipper looked over to his left shoulder- the sleeve still rolled up from the previous time he had examined the wound- and let out a hiss at the sight. Before it had only been a little red and puffy, bad but not terribly so. Now, though, it was a bright, angry red and was swollen to nearly twice its usual size. He could see pus oozing around it, which made him gag a bit. That, that wasn't good. There was no way that that was anywhere close to good. Dipper took yet another deep breath as he tried to think of what to do.

His arm needed to be seen. It needed to be cleaned out, properly and thoroughly. And soon. He didn't know what an infection looked like, but he guessed that his wound was close, if not already infected. And if it was already infected, like he feared, well, then he'd need treatment. Alcohol to disinfect, and herbs and ointments to help heal. Things that he didn't have, and most likely would not get any access to. There was nothing else he could do for it, he knew that now.

What was he supposed to do? His arm hurt like hell, his stomach was growling, and his head was aching; how exactly was he supposed to survive like this? He let out a soft groan as he thought. He couldn't give up. Yesterday, he had let despair rule him. He had let himself break down. But he couldn't do that again. He couldn't let these pirates beat him. He couldn't let them win.

For now, he would do his best to monitor his wound. While there wasn't much he could do for it, he could keep an eye on it. It may not help, but what else could he do? And as for his head hurting and his stomach growling, well, he'd just have to eat something. He saw that the bread and water he had been given the previous day was gone, so he'd just have wait to eat whatever he was given today. Even if it was moldy and gross. He needed sustenance to live.

With a plan in mind, even if it was a terrible one, Dipper felt himself relax just a bit. He was still trapped, but he would find a way to keep himself alive, just until he could find a way to escape. Then he could treat his arm and begin to heal. He would survive this. He would. He had to. Mabel needed him, he couldn't leave her alone. He had a long life to live. He couldn't die here, alone on a pirate ship.

With a soft sigh, Dipper leaned his head back against the wooden wall and waited for his food, hoping that they were still planning on feeding him. He felt weak, he needed to eat something. And to drink something. His throat was parched, drier than a desert, and he desperately wanted something to make it ache less.

It was a while later before the door to the brig opened, letting light flood in. For that time, Dipper had been thinking about his life before, back at home with his sister and his parents. Yeah, it was painful to remember, but it was better than reliving the previous night, like his wandering mind had wanted to do. He felt his heart simultaneously leap and fall at the sound of the door. Oh, please be food and not more pirates looking to hurt him. Or worse, the pirate captain coming to take what was 'his.'

He watched, his heart thudding, as the hulking pirate opened his cell door. He then felt his heart freeze as he noticed the pirate didn't have any food with him. Oh, please don't be there to hurt him. He was in enough pain as it was, mental and physical; he didn't know if he could take much more.

He shuffled back against the wall when the pirate came closer to him, which elicited a scowl from him. The pirate- who looked to be the same one who had fed him the previous day, the same one who had held his sister captive- reached down and yanked him up, causing him to yelp in pain and fear. He tried to struggle again, but he was too weak. Too tired. He could feel tears welling in his eyes as the pirate gripped his right shoulder painfully, holding him in place. He closed his eyes, awaiting whatever pain he was about to be dealt.

However, instead of pain, all Dipper felt was his wrists getting pulled. Opening his eyes, confused, Dipper watched as the pirate removed the chain for his manacles from the wall, holding them in the hand that wasn't gripping his shoulder.

"W-what...?" Dipper whispered, wanting to ask what the pirate was planning on doing to him, but unable to say anymore when his voice gave out. It seemed that all the screaming he had done the previous night- not to mention the dryness- had taken its toll. But the pirate seemed to get the general gist, if his dark scowl was to go by.

"Cap'n wants th' see ye," the pirate growled, before pushing him forward, towards the brig entrance. Dipper stumbled, his legs protesting the movement, his head aching as he was moved so roughly. He felt the pirate grab his arm again and force him to move, exiting the cell and walking over to the entrance of the brig. They stopped near the door, however, which he soon learned was so the pirate could put an extra set of restraints on his ankles, which were heavy and cumbersome. He tripped when the pirate tried to get him to move again, which just made the hulking pirate growl in anger and pull him more harshly.

Dipper did his best to keep up with the pirate's fast pace, not wanting to anger him anymore, but it was hard with his swimming head and his aching legs. Part of him wanted to look around while he was out, so he could map himself an escape route, but he found he couldn't. Not with how badly his head was pounding with the exertion. He could feel his mind muddying again and all he could do was blindly follow the pirate's movements, stumbling and tripping every few steps.

It wasn't until they reached the stairs to get to the upper decks that Dipper processed what the pirate had told him, about how the captain wanted to see him. He could feel his heart freeze as they climbed the steps, his addled mind racing as he wondered what exactly that entailed. What did the captain want from him? He recalled the demon saying last night that he'd see him tomorrow, which was now today, but he had thought they had been empty words. He hadn't expected to actually get brought to the captain. Or, more accurate, he had hoped that he wouldn't actually get brought to the captain. Oh dear. Oh no.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Dipper had only a second to close his eyes in preparation before the doors were opened and the bright sunlight hit them. He could feel his head pound as the light attacked his eyes- even from behind his lids- his migraine worsening with the too bright light. The pirate didn't care about his plight, however, continuing to yank him along at the same pace they had been going at before. Dipper kept stumbling, blind, his ankles and arms aching from the manacles tugging on them and from the numerous times his right shoulder had been yanked when he had tripped. He had no idea where he was and felt utterly terrified as he thought of where he was headed. He didn't want to meet up with the pirate captain. That was the last thing on Earth that he wanted.

But soon he felt the pirate stopping, the grip on his arm bruising as he heard a knock sounding on a solid door. A few moments passed before a high pitched- though muffled- 'enter' was heard. Dipper swallowed dryly as he was tugged inside, his eyes still closed. The pirate that was gripping his arm suddenly let go, which caused Dipper to fall to the ground painfully, a small yelp of discomfort escaping his lips against his will. He then heard footsteps coming closer to him, before he felt his shoulder getting grabbed roughly once more.

"Put him over there. In that chair. Chain his legs, but release his arms," he heard the captain say, before he was dragged up and over to wherever it was the captain wanted him. He felt the restraints on his wrists leave, but the ones on his ankle remained, tightening and getting forced to the stiff legs of a chair. He tried to move his legs, but they refused to budge, completely secured to the chair. He listened as feet thudded away from him, presumably the pirate leaving.

"Anythin' else, cap'n?"

There was a pause. Dipper could hear other, lighter footsteps move, closer to him this time.

"No. You are dismissed."

The pirate left then, the door thudding shut behind him. Dipper still kept his eyes closed, partially because of the pain, but partially because he didn't want to accept this reality. Didn't want to acknowledge the fact he was trapped, chained up tight inside what he guessed was the captain's quarters, with the demon in question mere feet away from him. He heard an amused laugh, followed by more footsteps.

"You know, keeping your eyes closed just makes you look childish," a voice sounded, right next to his ear, a lot closer than he had expected. Startled, Dipper's eyes flew open, light bombarding them. He let out a gasp as he saw a golden eye right in front of his face, the eye accompanied by a huge, amused grin. He jerked backwards, trying to get away from the madman, but unable to do so. His attempt just made the demon in front of him laugh again.

Dipper could feel his heart thudding as he watched the captain straighten, content that he had successfully startled his prisoner, and walk to stand by a large desk that was in front of them. He could also feel his head pounding, from both the light and from the panic he felt flooding through him.

What did the demon want from him? Why was he here? Dipper's mind was racing, so many questions bombarding him, but he was unable to comprehend or speak any of them, his mind and throat too sore. He could only watch, heart racing with fear and confusion, as the captain paced over to a tea kettle that was sitting on the desk, before pouring himself a cup.

Moments passed in silence as the pirate captain moved around his desk, collecting various things, such as sugar and cream, as well as a small pot of honey. Dipper felt his confusion crescendo as he watched the demon move, his lithe body almost swaying as he worked. What on Earth was going on?

Finally, moments later, the demon turned to face him, a manic grin on his face. Dipper waited with bated breath for the demon to do something. A beat passed, before the captain extended his arms, holding out the tea he had just poured.

"Tea?" The demon asked, an eyebrow raised as he continued to grin.

Dipper stared in dumb shock at the proffered cup, opening and closing his mouth as his confused mind tried to understand what the captain was doing. He had no idea what to say, what to think. Was it... Was it poisoned? Was the captain trying to kill him after all? Was this a test? He didn't know, and he felt unease bubble up inside him as he simply stared. Another beat passed before the pirate captain extended his arms further.

"Go on, take it. Don't have all day, Pine Tree," the demon claimed, though his grin was still highly amused. Dipper just continued to stare, trying his best to work through the pros and cons of taking the cup. On one hand, it could be poisoned, but on the other hand, he might offend the captain if he didn't take it. Another moment passed before he hesitatingly reached out and took the cup, his hands shaking lightly as he did so. He didn’t want to upset the captain. He… he didn’t want to get hurt anymore. He ignored the shooting pain in his shoulder as he stared down into his tea.

"W-why...?" He questioned hoarsely, his eyes returning to the captain, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. He watched as the captain shrugged.

"I find that tea and honey helps with sore throats. Plus, I figured you'd be pretty thirsty, since you didn't drink the water I so gratuitously ordered for you," the demon claimed, his grin taking a sardonic twist. "Now go on, drink. It's only polite, after all."

The captain then reached to the side and grabbed his own cup of tea, which Dipper had not seen the demon make. He watched as the captain softly blew on the hot liquid, taking a sip a second later. He bit his lip as he looked down into his own cup, debating. Well, if the demon was drugging him, there wasn't much he could do about it, was there? And, the tea did smell delicious. It had been a while since he had seen such a rich tea as this. Probably stolen, but it still looked and smelled wonderful, especially when his throat began to ache. So, even with his great reservations, Dipper found himself taking a sip of the piping hot liquid, not really minding as it burned down his throat. It tasted even better than it looked, and he found that he couldn't help the small smile on his face as he drank. It reminded him of home.

"Need more sugar? I find that tea on its own is so bitter. Always need to put in a bunch of sugar and honey to counteract the taste," Dipper heard the captain say casually a few moments later, startling him out of his blissful drinking of the tea. He looked up quickly and saw that the demon was staring intently at him, his cup of tea pushed to the side. The demon was, for once, not grinning. Instead, he had a contemplative look on his face as he studied him, head tilted to the side a bit. Dipper could feel himself flush at the look, squirming uncomfortably at the unwanted attention.

"N-no. This is- this is fine," he stammered, his voice still a bit hoarse, but better than it had been previously. He watched as the captain nodded, picking up his cup again and taking a long sip. Silence overtook them then, the captain drinking his tea and studying him.

Dipper had no idea what was going on. While he admitted that the tea was excellent, and that it appeared to not be poisoned or drugged, he had no idea why the captain would give him this. Why waste such fine tea on a prisoner? Especially when before, all he had gotten was foul water and rotten food? What did the demon _want_  from him? This polite facade was concerning him, making him wonder just when the demon would lash out, showing his true colors.

Several minutes passed while the captain drank his tea, Dipper cautiously drinking his as well. Once he had reached the bottom of his cup, drinking the honey that had congealed there to help his still sore throat, he heard the captain put his cup down, the demon grinning again as he stared at him. Dipper felt his back stiffen as set his now empty cup down as well, looking at the captain with distrust and fear.

"So. How are you enjoying your time on my ship, The Nightmare?" Dipper heard the demon ask a few moments later, leaning back in his chair as he grinned, eyebrow raised. Dipper wasn't quite sure if the demon was being serious or not. The captain was so insane, he might actually be asking. Regardless, he kept quiet, knowing that his honest answer might make the pirate captain angry at him. It didn't surprise him, though, that the ship was named The Nightmare. It certainly felt like one. The captain chuckled when time passed and he still had not answered.

"No answer? Well then. Not a very talkative one, are you?" The demon asked, before standing and walking over to the back wall, rummaging around for something on the table that was sitting there. Dipper took the time to discretely look around the cabin, realizing with a small jolt that he had yet to do so. It was reasonably sized, he supposed, for a room on a ship. Since he could see no bed or living space, he assumed that this was not the captain's quarters, but was instead his office. Stan had something similar on The Mystery, but it was not as spacious as this room was. Plus, Stan's had a large window on the back wall, while this room just had a door to what Dipper assumed was the captain's actual quarters, with a large map taking up the remaining wall. The only furniture he could see from his perspective was the large desk that was in front of him, a few large chests scattered around, the table that was beneath the large map, and the two chairs he and the captain were sitting on.

The demon found whatever he was looking for quickly, holding it up with a soft 'aha,' which brought Dipper's attention back on him. He could see a piece of paper in the captain's hands, yellow and stained. He was unsure what it was at first, until the captain turned it to face him. He then felt recognition as he saw that it was the worn and creased poster that he had kept in his jacket's inner breast pocket.

"I can see that you're a fan of mine, though. My men found this in that pitiful jacket of yours. What do you think? Capture my likeness well?" The demon asked, holding the poster up next to his face with a wide grin. It was a really good drawing of the demon, he begrudgingly had to admit. The only difference was that now Dipper could see that the demon had a golden, triangular eye patch covering his right eye, and that his visible left eye was a bright golden hazel. His skin was also a golden color, either deeply tanned or he had mixed blood. Possibly Egyptian? Paired with the yellow jacket, black undercoat and trousers, it created an… interesting image. Not to mention the three golden teeth the demon sported, which glinted in the well-lit room. He could also see the small cut that he had caused on the pirate's cheek, already mostly healed.

"See that they raised my bounty," the captain continued when Dipper didn't reply. "Guess pillaging all those wealthy ships advances one's infamy. Ha!"

The demon then folded the poster up and handed it to Dipper with a wink- or, he blinked his one eye over-exaggeratedly, which made Dipper think that it was a wink.

"Here, so you have something to remind yourself of me in that cell of yours," the demon explained, smug amusement coloring his expression. With great hesitation, Dipper took the poster, glancing at it briefly. He took note of the demon's name, but he didn't want to use it. Using his name would make the pirate captain seem human, and he didn't want that. He didn't want to think of this monster as human, because he didn't want to think a human could be as deprived as 'Bill' seemed to be. Refolding the poster, he decided to put it into the back of his boot so he didn't have to keep holding it, eliciting a snort of amusement from the demon. But Dipper watched as the captain's face shifted, losing a touch of its amusement.

"Now. Onto business," the captain said, his expression turning just a bit more serious. Dipper felt his heart dropping a bit as he watched the demon walk over to a chest over by the left wall. "Take off your shirt."

Oh God no. His eyes widened as he took in the words, his heart starting to thud fiercely and his breathing becoming erratic. Take his shirt off? Why?! Oh, he had known that the politeness and courteousness was just a facade. Dipper’s muddled mind began to race as he started to struggle against his leg restraints, his arms flailing as he tried to push himself back. He didn't know what the captain would do to him once his shirt was off, but he definitely did not want to find out. His mind was filled with thoughts of the previous night, knowing that nothing good could come from his shirt coming off. He even managed to stand, a bit awkwardly with the manacles around his ankles, but he didn't care. He didn't want the pirate captain to touch him, didn't want to get... Hurt. He didn't want to get hurt. Not again.

When the captain turned back to face him, Dipper bared his teeth, eyes narrowed in a challenge. He may be in an impossible situation, but he'd be damned before he let this monster touch him at all. A beat passed, where the two just stared at each other, before the demon started to laugh, high pitched and insane. He could feel indignation rising in him at the sound, almost overpowering his fear.

"Oh Pine Tree. It's funny how dumb you are," the demon claimed a minute later, once his laughter had died down, before sobering just a tiny bit. "Relax, kid. I'm not going to hurt you. I noticed your arm's looking pretty bad there. Another week or so and you might need to lose it, or worse! Since I've got big plans for you, I'm not about to let you die or get mangled on my watch, so I'm going to clean out your wound for you. And for that, I need you to take off your shirt."

Dipper stared at the captain, his heart slowing as the adrenaline faded with the captain’s explanation, and tried to find the lie in his words. With the knee-jerk panic fading, he was able to think a touch more rationally, and knew that what the demon said sounded logical. And, for all that he didn't want to trust the demon, he didn't seem to be lying. The captain was simply staring at him calmly, no grin, with his eyebrows raised slightly. Dipper could not detect a lie. And his arm was really killing him, the pain almost unbearable. Not to mention that the captain was right; if he didn't get his wound cleaned soon, it was only going to get worse. He knew this. If the captain was offering to clean it, to help heal it, well, it might be worth it to listen. Even if it was a trick, Dipper couldn't afford to not try. Besides, it wasn’t like he could fight the captain off even if it was a trick.

So, with a sigh and a mistrustful glare, Dipper slowly removed his shirt, grimacing as he felt his shoulder stretch. He heard as the pirate captain picked something up and walked over to him.

"Turn," the demon demanded, kneeling next to Dipper, setting a bottle of rum on the ground, as well as some clean looking rags. Doing as the demon said, Dipper turned to the right a little, so the captain could see his wound clearly. The captain let out a loud whistle when he saw it.

"Wow, Pine Tree. My man sure did a number on you! Just make sure you don't squirm while I'm fixing you up, got it?" The demon demanded with a careless grin, before lifting the bottle of rum up and dumping it on the wound. Dipper did his best to not scream, but it was hard. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes as the alcohol stung bitterly. He also began to wonder why the hell he was allowing an insane pirate captain tend to his wound, and why said insane pirate captain was cleaning his wound instead of a medic. He felt as the demon began dabbing at the wound with a rag, wiping the blood and pus away a bit roughly. The demon then repeated this pattern several times, trying to get the wound to fully clean.

"Why are you doing this? Why not have your medic do it?" Dipper gritted out a few minutes later, when the pain became a bit more bearable. He felt the demon's hands pause from where they were wiping the blood away, a small chuckle coming from him.

"Oh, so you do speak. Trust me, Pine Tree. You don't want anyone else on this ship touching you! They don't like your kind very much!" The demon claimed, grinning sharply as he looked up at Dipper from under his hair. Dipper swallowed dryly and nodded tightly in response, biting his lip when the demon went back to work. It was several minutes before the demon seemed content with the wound, getting up to throw out the numerous bloody rags.

"Tell me, Pine Tree. Is your skin usually warm to the touch, or do you tend to run on the cold side?" The captain asked as he rummaged through his chest, glancing back over his shoulder at Dipper, who frowned. How on earth would he know that?

"I, I don't know. Is that important?" He questioned, watching as the captain shrugged.

"Your skin's pretty warm there. I'm trying to figure out if it's fever or natural. So I know how infected that wound of yours is," the demon said casually, picking up a small bottle from inside the chest, tilting it back and forth and looking at its contents. Dipper didn't reply, just bit his lip worriedly as he watched the demon do whatever it was he was doing. He hadn't noticed his skin getting warmer, but it was possible. It was so cold down in the brig, it wouldn’t be surprising if he hadn’t notice.

The captain finished what he was doing and walked back to him, kneeling on the ground again. Dipper could see that the demon had a few bottles with him. The captain opened a bottle and poured a little on his long fingers, rubbing it into the wound. Dipper winced at the slight sting, the strong scent of herbs filling his nostrils. He tried not to notice how surprisingly gentle the demon was being with his ministrations, how focused he was. It was too human for Dipper to comprehend.

The demon put a few other herbs on his wound, the medicinal scent thick and cloying. He could practically taste it. But he didn't mind. It was good, this stuff would help heal him. He didn't want to think about why the captain was doing this for him, why he was healing him. It was too confusing. Right as the demon was wrapping his arm up with a bandage, there was a knock on the door. Dipper felt the captain finish the bandaging, before heading over to the door to speak with whoever was out there. A minute later, the captain closed the door, a tray of food in hand and a grin on his face. Dipper felt his mouth salivating at the rich food he could smell, his stomach growling as it reminded him of how he had not eaten in two days. The captain simply laughed as he set the food down on the table, which had Dipper glaring at the demon.

He watched, bitterly, as the demon ate his food carefully, a mocking grin on his face as he watched Dipper through a hooded eye. Dipper scowled back and looked away, shifting in his seat as he tried not to start begging for food. Never, in his life, had he ever really felt hunger. First he had his parents, who always had enough money to get them all feasts if they wanted. Then he had his great uncle, who made sure that no one on his ship went hungry, especially him and his sister. So now, with his stomach empty and his head hurting, he couldn't help but want the feeling to end. It was torture to feel, especially now that his arm was less painful and he had nothing else to focus on.

Minutes passed that way, the sound of the captain masticating the only sound in the room. It was getting harder and harder to not start begging, his stomach churning bitterly. God, he was starving. He could feel hatred rise in his gut for the captain, knowing that the demon did this only to torment him. It didn't matter that he had just fixed up his arm; this was worthy of hatred. Dipper was still facing towards the wall when he heard the captain get up and move closer to him, kneeling on the ground in front of him once more. Dipper turned to face the demon, a scowl on his face, faltering a bit at the contemplative look he could see on the captain's face, a small plate of meat in his hands.

"Tell me, Pine Tree. Are you above begging for your food?" The captain asked, head tilted to the side. There was no smile on the demon's face, no humor in his eye. Just intrigue and curiosity, which made Dipper's heart stop for a brief second. It looked so human, so normal.

The words then registered in his mind, and Dipper scowled harder. Of course, the demon would want him to beg. Well, he refused. He had his pride. He wouldn't demean himself like that, not for this monster. Lifting his chin, Dipper turned his face away from the pirate once more, dismissal and disdain clear in his actions. He could hear the pirate captain chuckle darkly from his spot on the ground, before feeling a callused hand gently grip his jaw, turning his face back forcefully. Dipper's breathing stopped as he saw the pirate's face, so close to his own that he could practically count the golden freckles the demon had on his cheeks.

"Your insolence will get you nowhere, you know. I help you, out of the goodness of my heart, and yet you still defy me. What a pity. Perhaps some time without supper will change your mind. Until I see you beg, like the needy child you are, you will not be fed. Do you understand, Pine Tree?" The demon questioned, a slow smirk rising on his lips. Dipper, despite how off he felt at the closeness, bared his teeth in response, making the demon chuckle lowly once more. His jaw then got released, the demon jerking it slightly to the side as he got up and walked over to the door, opening it to get the pirate whom had brought him here. The demon then threw a shirt at him- not the one he had taken off- saying nothing as he sauntered back to his desk, sitting in the chair that was behind it. Dipper, not really having time to complain as the hulking pirate came up and began releasing him from the chair, put the shirt on with a grimace. It was clean, he knew, but it was still not his own. And it was a bit too large on him.

Dipper felt himself get yanked up then, the pirate scowling at him as he pulled him towards the door. He followed, not looking back at the captain, his jaw set as he marched out the cabin and to the below decks. Since his head hurt a bit less with the tea and honey he had drank, Dipper made sure to glance around the ship as he walked, taking in the features he could see. The dark looks he got from the various pirates concerned him, but he made sure to hold his head high with false bravado, like his great uncle had always taught him. Entering the below decks, he still looked around, trying to mentally map the halls as they walked.

Soon Dipper was back in his cell, the pirate removing the ankle manacles and putting the chain for his wrist ones back on the wall. The pirate said nothing as he worked, leaving as soon as the chain was set. Dipper then sat on the ground and stared at the wall, unable to do much else.

At least his arm didn't hurt as badly, he thought morosely as he sat. He supposed he should feel grateful that the captain had seen to his arm, but he found that he just couldn't. Not with the demon's parting words. Dipper knew, then, that he would never beg the captain for anything. He refused. The captain claimed that he had big plans for him, so it wasn't like he would let him die.

Right?


	7. Drunken Ramblings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm just going to change the posting days to Saturdays. They seem to be easier for me to actually post on than Sundays. 
> 
> Hey everyone. New chapter. I'm not that happy with it, as I feel like I might have skipped too much with my three day time-jump, and didn't explain enough, but whatever. I'm too tired to bother fixing it anymore than I already have. 
> 
> Just saying, before you read, note that during the three days it has been in the story, Dipper has softened a bit towards Bill. He still hates him, but is also confused by him, as Bill is being kinder and more 'human' than Dipper thinks a pirate should be. I tried explaining that in the story, but I'm pretty sure I fell flat. I apologize; I was sick while writing this chapter and had difficulty getting my thoughts across. I edited it as well I could, but I'm still muddled and just... I don't know. Depressed? Yeah, I guess that's the word. Nothing I'm doing turns out how I want, and it's just... not fun.
> 
> There was more I wanted to say, about Bill and Dipper, and how this story is going to go, but I just... don't care. Whatever. 
> 
> I hope you like this chapter. Please tell me what you think. 
> 
> Enjoy. Or... don't. I don't know.

He was wrong, he thought bitterly as he stared at the wall, his stomach churning angrily.

Three days had passed since that first meeting in the captain's office. Dipper noticed that over that time, a sort of routine had been created. Not a routine that he particularly liked, but one that did add a touch of structure to his life.

Every morning he would wake, at an undetermined time due to the lack of light. He would then attempt to come up with an escape plan, bits and pieces and scattered ideas before the hulking pirate showed up and yanked him up to leave the cells. Then he’d get dragged- literally, as the days passed and he grew weaker- to the captain’s office, where he would spend the next hour or so getting prattled at, the captain speaking of everything and nothing while tending to his wound. At the end of the time, the captain would get his lunch and spend approximately the next ten minutes eating it slowly, watching Dipper all the while. Right before he was let out, the captain would come up close to him, so close that Dipper could see every detail of the demon’s face, and tempt him with steaming chunks of decadent smoked beef. Each time he would turn his head away, disgust and disdain and utter hatred clear in his motion, until the demon would send him away with a scowl.

(Dipper was ashamed to admit, however, that his resolve was fading as the days went on. His stomach was growling, his body was slowing. He could feel his mind protesting the lack of food, could feel as the days passed his mind getting more and more muddled, but he didn't want to beg like a child just to be fed. He didn't want to degrade himself that much. Yet as he watched the demon eat his food, as he could smell the roasted meat, he found himself wishing he wasn't so prideful. And he hated himself for it. Hated to know he was actually considering begging for something as simple as food.

Worse still, the captain did not seem to be about to change his mind. Instead, the demon appeared to get more and more amused as the days passed, his one eye alight with a sort of sick glee at seeing his prisoner so desperate. It was like it was a game to him. Like he was trying to see how low he could bring his prisoner before he broke. It sickened Dipper, and he found himself utterly hating the demon for it.)

Once the demon was done tormenting him, though, Dipper would be brought back to his cell where he would be forced to spend the rest of the day sitting in silence, his stomach slowly eating itself. He honestly didn't know what was worse; getting tormented by the pirate captain, or being left alone by himself in his cell, where he had to spend hours on end staring at walls with nothing around to interest him. At least when he was with the demon he had something to do, something to focus on. The silence in his cell was mind-numbing, and it only made him think up things he'd rather not think of. Horrors he had been through, horrors he might still be subjected to. What had become of his sister and great uncle. Torturing himself with memories of home and of safety. All of it muddled and distorted by his lack of food, original head wound, and the blood he had lost with his shoulder wound that first day. He hated it.

There was only one good thing that had happened over the past few days, and that was that his shoulder was feeling better. Even as the demon kept food from him, he still took the time each day to clean the wound and add more medicine, his hands almost gentle as he worked. If it wasn't for the fact the demon was withholding his food from him, he'd almost feel grateful to the captain.

It really wasn't fair, he thought miserably as he sat in his cell, having just returned from his fourth meeting with the insane pirate captain. His arm was better, but now he had another thing to worry about. Something that would be so easy to fix, if he just got over his pride. If he gave in and let the demon get his sick satisfaction. But he couldn't; he _couldn't_. The demon was sick and twisted; he couldn't let him win. Not with the things he had learned about the captain of this ship of nightmares.

See, during the times that Dipper was in the demon's office, his legs restrained as the captain worked, the demon had imparted several tidbits of information about himself. Things that he would prattle on about while cleaning his wound. Horrifying, disgusting things. Things like the fact that the demon had a list of murders he had committed that was longer than Dipper was tall. And that he had a list of crimes longer than the ship was wide.

But the amount of crimes wasn't the worst part of it. That wasn't what stopped Dipper from giving in and letting the demon win. No. What was stopping him from caving was how casually the captain spoke of his crimes. Of the people he had murdered or maimed, or tortured. The demon didn't seem to care at all that he was taking lives, destroying families. It disgusted him to hear, disgusted him to be around this monstrous demon. He couldn't let a ‘person’ like that defeat him and force him to beg. It was more than pride, really; it was principle.

And yet, even that wasn't the absolute worst thing about his time spent in the demon's office, he thought miserably while squirming slightly. That wasn't what caused the most conflict and hatred to rise within Dipper. No, what was the absolute worst thing, the thing that caused Dipper to squirm and feel the most intense hatred, the thing that stopped him from ever giving in to the demon, was how human the captain could be at times. During those moments when the demon wasn't speaking and was simply being, when he wasn't tormenting him. The way the demon would be gentle with his wound and the way he could sometimes look so serene and almost childlike. So sincere. Dipper saw it on occasion, when the demon was staring at him. Or when he was staring off into space, his words trailing off. The curiosity and intrigue in his eye. The humanity. Oh, how Dipper hated it. Hated how it made him almost believe that a monster such as Bill Cipher could ever actually be human. It was a cunning ruse, but a ruse nonetheless. No one who spoke so easily of death could be human. No one who denied a basic human necessity, like food, could be human. Dipper refused to believe it. And yet, sometimes he did. Believe it. Believe that this demon was human. And that was what he hated the most.

Dipper let out a sigh as he lifted his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. He didn't want to think of the pirate captain. He didn't want to feel so… so intrigued by him. So curious. Yes, he still felt hatred and fear, but he was also so baffled by him. He defied what Dipper always thought pirates were, defied the clean line that Dipper had created in his mind. Pirates couldn't be gentle. They couldn't feel anything other than hatred or twisted amusement. They couldn't get this look in their eyes sometimes, couldn't abruptly stop talking and look so… lost, before rambling on about something benign. They couldn’t help heal their prisoners, not when it would make more logical sense to keep them delirious with pain. It wasn't possible.

At least the demon had his bad parts that would always remind Dipper of who he truly was. When he would ramble about his crimes, or when he would deny him his food. When he would grin his wide, manic grin with that insane glint in his eye. That always stopped his musings about the captain's supposed humanity. Anything good in 'Bill' had to be a lie. A ruse. Something to trick Dipper into submitting to him. It made him scowl at the wall to think. Well, 'Bill,' you'd have to try a lot harder to trick Dipper Pines, he thought bitterly.

Dipper was pulled from his musings when he heard the sound of loud laughter coming from above, followed by the sound of hooting and hollering. He let out a groan as he buried his head in his knees, covering his ears with his hands. He didn't quite know what was going on up there, but he had been hearing noises coming from the upper decks for the past several minutes now. They had been quiet enough at first that he could ignore them, but now they were getting louder and more frequent. It sounded like they were celebrating, he thought as he covered his head. For what, though, was the question.

As time passed, the cheering got louder and louder, to the point that Dipper couldn't drown it out by covering his head. He scowled to himself, balling his hands into fists as he was forced to listen to their ruckus. This was aggravating. His head was already aching from lack of food and the noise was just making it all worse.

Not like there was anything he could do about it, though. He was trapped, a prisoner. It wasn't like he could go up there and ask them to keep it down. He snorted at the thought, the image in his mind amusing. Though, it was possible that he was just a touch delirious from a lack of nutrition. Or, perhaps, more than a touch.

Dipper wasn't sure how much time had passed before the door to the brig opened, causing lantern light to flood into the room. For the past however long, he had been sitting on the ground, trying his best to drown out the sound of the perverse merrymaking. He even had tried talking to himself to get sound in the room, though his throat had grown too sore to continue that quicker than usual, due to his slightly parched throat. While the captain did give him tea every day, it wasn't nearly enough to satisfy his throat. When he heard the door open, he felt his head snap up to face whoever was invading his prison. He could feel his heart beating fast as he recalled, unwanted, what had happened the last time someone unexpected had entered his cell.

But instead of seeing a group of drunk and handsy pirates, all Dipper saw was a solitary- and unfortunately familiar- figure. Dressed in his usual yellow jacket and black trousers stood the captain, a too wide grin on his face as he stared down at him, swaying slightly in the doorway. Dipper could see the demon was holding something in his hand, though he couldn't quite make out what from his angle.

"Heya Pine Tree!" The demon cheerfully exclaimed as he sauntered over to the cell, collapsing clumsily on the ground in front of the bars. He then started giggling, his eye closed as he leaned against the bars. Dipper watched in confusion- and mild concern- as the demon giggled manically.

"Um... Hi." Dipper stated slowly, eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. He watched as the captain looked up at him, his one eye hooded.

"Thought I'd check up on my prisoner. Like a good captain should." The demon claimed with faux seriousness, before giggling again. He then lifted the thing he was holding and brought it to his lips, taking a long drink. Dipper noticed then that it was a bottle of rum, which certainly did explain things. The captain was drunk. Dipper didn't know if this concerned him or amused him. Concerned, probably, as he recalled what the last drunken pirates he had encountered had done to him.

"I, uh, see." He replied, not sure what else to say. He never really spoke to the demon, while up in his office. He spent most of the time silently glaring, listening begrudgingly to the rambling captain. The demon never seemed to mind, clearly loving the sound of his own voice. But now he was at a loss; what exactly did one say to the drunken form of the person who had taken you captive and was currently denying you food? Dipper certainly didn't know. Especially when he wasn't even sure why the demon was down there in the first place, since his reasoning of 'wanting to check up on his prisoner' sounded just a bit false to him. He didn't ask, though, and instead watched as the captain nodded slowly, smirking up at him. He figured that it just wouldn’t be worth the headache that trying to understand the demon's words always tended to cause in him. Especially since it wasn’t like the demon was going to be truthful or anything.

"Mhmmm. So, how are you, Pine Tree? Doin' good?"

Dipper found himself scoffing incredulously at the question. Wow, seriously? If the demon was honestly asking him how he was doing, he either was incredibly drunk, or incredibly stupid. Since Dipper doubted the latter, he was going to go with the former. Which didn't bode well for him.

"Oh yeah, doing just great, stuck here as a prisoner on a pirate ship with no food and barley any water. Just peachy." He said sarcastically, feeling too tired and annoyed to really care about any consequences for his words. To his luck, the captain simply snorted with amusement.

"Hey, you should feel lucky, kid, that you're not getting treated worse. Compared to some ships, you're getting the royal treatment here, Pine Tree." The demon stated, staring at him intently with a sardonic grin on his lips. Dipper scowled in response, glaring as best he could, before looking down, something about the words bugging him. As he stared at the ground, he could feel a question rise in his mind. A question that had been bugging him for the past three days, every time the demon had him brought to his office to look at his wound. And with the captain there, his eye so intent, he found he couldn’t keep his question to himself anymore.

"And why is that, huh? Why are you treating me better than most ships would? What's your angle?" Dipper demanded, voicing that damn question that had been plaguing him for the past several days. Why was he getting, comparatively, treated decently? He didn't see getting starved as a good thing, but it certainly was better than any of the stories Dipper had heard. It confused and sort of frightened him. Because he had no idea why; why he wasn't getting beaten or worse. Why he wasn’t in more pain than he already was. But now that the pirate captain was here and drunk, perhaps he might actually get an answer. Perhaps the captain would be straight to him for once.

The captain, however, simply shrugged in response to his question, taking another swig from his bottle.

"You're interesting. Not many people your size would take on a six foot tall pirate captain without hesitation, you know, only to then fight four other pirates. Can't tell if you're brave or simply stupid, though. Clearly cared 'bout that girlie my men had caught for a bit o' fun. She your wife or something?" The demon asked, his words slurring just a little bit and his proper accent slipping. His eye, though, was piercing and clear. It made Dipper briefly wonder if this was all just an act, though he put it out of his mind quickly. Didn’t really matter if he was drunk or not, did it? He also didn’t really feel like the captain had answered his question fully, but it was enough that he wouldn’t demand more. It wasn’t really worth it, honestly. He turned, instead, to the question he had been asked, wrinkling his nose slightly at the image it inspired.

"… My sister." He answered after a beat, not quite sure if he should have told the demon or not. He couldn't really see a reason why not, though. It wasn't like the demon could hurt her based on his answer, after all. Mabel was safe and sound on The Mystery. ‘Bill’ couldn’t touch her even if he wanted. With that in mind, he watched as the captain nodded sagely.

"Ah. Family. Makes you do crazy things, huh? Not that I'd know. Killed my family when I was a boy." He said nonchalantly, taking a casual swig of his rum. Dipper, on the other hand, was staring at the demon with wide eyes.

"You're sick." Dipper claimed a moment later, once the shock had faded. The captain grinned sharply at him.

"Not everyone had good families, Pine Tree. Mine deserved what they got." He claimed darkly, before smirking again. "Wanna know what's funny 'bout you? You look like a street urchin, with your unruly hair and your round, baby cheeks. Yet you speak like an upperclassman. Care to explain?"

Dipper bared his teeth at the captain, considering his words. Honestly, it didn't surprise him that the demon had killed his family at a young age, but it still made him sick. No family deserved to be killed by one of their own, no matter what. And as for his question, why on earth would he tell the demon about that? It was private. Plus, it had always been a sore spot for him, the fact that he didn’t look much like the other members of the upper class. So it was with no regret or thoughts of possible negative repercussions that Dipper scowled and turned his face away from the captain, showing once more his disdain to the demon.

"I'm not answering that." Dipper claimed, staring intently at the rafters, the dark corners of his cell that were full of tiny spider webs. The scowl was still fierce on his lips, his mind churning as he bitterly thought of the captain and his terribleness. He heard as the captain snorted, before he heard the demon shifting a bit, an excited sound coming from his lips. Unable to stop the curiosity that filled him- wondering why exactly the demon would make the same kind of sound his sister made when something exciting had occurred to her- Dipper flicked his eyes almost unwillingly back down to view the captain. He felt a bit apprehensive at the excited gleam he saw in his eye.

"Oh, wait, wait, I have an idea!” The demon claimed, chuckling as a slow grin grew on his face. “How 'bout we make a deal, Pine Tree? See, you’re looking awfully hungry there. An’ I’m doubting you’ll ever cave and beg me, huh? Too prideful, too stubborn. What I like ‘bout you, Pine Tree; determination an’ conviction! So, if you answer my question, an’ answer it well, I'll give you some food! No begging required." The demon grinned, his eye alight with a twisted kind of humor. But Dipper wasn’t paying attention to that. No, he was too busy staring at the captain, his eyes wide and his mind racing. Food? If he just… answered a simple question? No ‘begging like a needy child’, no demeaning himself so terribly? It made him wonder just how curious this demon was about his parentage. Who knew; perhaps he wasn’t the only curious one here.

Dipper felt torn at the deal, though. Very torn. On one hand, he was starving. It had been five days since he had last eaten; five days in which his body had gone through extreme injuries and distress. His head was slow, his mind addled beyond belief. However, on the other hand… he really did not want to give in to the demon’s demands. God, just the thought made him want to gag, the thought tasting so much like failure to him. But… oh, he needed to eat. He couldn’t survive much longer without sustenance. And this question… okay, so it was an important story to him. After all, it was basically the story of his parents, since his mixed heritage was the leading factor in his visage. But was it really more important that food? More important than his life?

"...Fine." He stated a few moments later, feeling his stomach growl. He felt a wave of failure pass through him as he saw a triumphant gleam enter the captain’s eye, but he couldn’t find it in him to regret it too much. He… he needed food. God, he needed food. He took a deep breath as he thought of what he would reveal, doing his best to ignore the demon that was grinning at him.

“Fine. I look like how I do because my mother… she was a Noble. Old money, you see. But my father… my father was a drifter. Salesman. Was born in the streets and was destined to stay in those streets, selling his wares in various villages and cities around the country, constantly moving. But then he met my mother, seeing her from his cart as she wandered around the poorer neighborhood with her escorts. When their eyes met across the busy streets… well, they fell in love. After that, they made the time to see each other every chance they had, mother sneaking out at night to meet up with my father. After a few months had passed, my father proposed, revealing their relationship soon after to my grandparents. It took a while, but eventually my grandparents came around and accepted my father as their soon-to-be son. A few years later my sister and I were born. We took after our father in looks more than we did our mother.” He explained, tersely, with as much detail as he dared to give. He hadn’t wanted to give too much detail, since the story was one close to his heart, yet he recalled the captain telling him to answer the question well. One thing that was concerning him, though, was the fact that during his story he had seen the demon’s face getting darker and darker, making him wonder if he had done something wrong. If he wasn’t going to get fed, after all. But maybe it wasn’t anything to do with his story. Perhaps the demon didn’t understand love. It wouldn’t surprise him, honestly. Hopefully that was it.

When his words had ended, he watched as the captain nodded slowly, his face stony as he frowned at the ground. Dipper tried his hardest to not squirm, eyes glancing around the dark cell, trying to see if there was anything else he could focus on. The captain made him feel nervous, made him want to run and hide. It really was too bad that the man was nearly luminescent in the shadowy space, the light flooding in from the hallway causing his yellow jacket to almost glow. His eyes couldn’t escape the demon any more than he could.

"Interesting." The captain said emotionlessly, before taking another swig from his bottle. "You're lucky, Pine Tree. Not many nobles would allowed their daughter to marry someone from the lower class. Unheard of." The demon stated, his eye blank as a slow scowl rose on his lips. Dipper felt confused as he saw it, wondering what the demon's problem was. He was a pirate; what did he know of the upper class? The look on the captain’s face made him anxious, though, and he began to explain as best he could, hoping it would be enough. Please don’t let the captain take his chance for food away from him. Not now. He had already given in to this ridiculous game that the captain was playing; he had compromised his pride enough.

"Well, uh... my, my mother loved my father, and my grandparents loved my mother dearly. They wanted her to be happy. And, well… if my father made her happy, they would allow it. They had cared more for her than their reputation." He explained slowly, not quite sure what else to say. It was a bit more complicated than that, since it had taken his mother threatening to run away to get his grandparents to listen, but he didn't think saying that was very necessary. But the demon still looked upset, which was concerning. Now, Dipper understood that it was a bizarre situation, that the captain was correct; most families would rather disown their child than allow them to marry one deemed lesser. But what confused him was why the demon looked so… personally upset at his words. Why on earth would this pirate feel personally wounded by a story about the upper class?

"As I said, lucky. Most nobles would just throw their daughter out if she dared to fall in love with someone lesser than them." The demon bit out, his face twisted in some kind of anger. Dipper felt himself shiver at the look, wondering just what it was he had said to make the demon so upset, wondering if there was anything at all he could do to make things better. Before he could even try, however, he watched as the demon’s face smoothed over, a manic grin appearing so abruptly Dipper had to blink in surprise. "Hey Pine Tree, you thirsty? Want some rum?"

Dipper could only stare at the now grinning face, the bottle the demon was drinking from extended out towards him, feeling incredibly bemused. The demon's face a moment before... it had looked downright furious, an expression Dipper hadn't seen since their first encounter, when he had nearly killed the demon. A look that expressed the captain’s upset and fury quite nicely. Clearly, something about his story had hit a nerve with this insane pirate. And yet… now, here he was, grinning like nothing had ever happened. Like he hadn’t exposed himself just a moment before.

Well… that wasn’t so surprising, though, he supposed. After all, Dipper had noticed over the past few days that the demon did that a lot. He would be rambling on about something, careless as could be, before abruptly stopping, this dark look appearing on his face. Then, before Dipper could even process the look, the captain would grin and change the topic completely, with nary a hint at what he had previously been speaking of. Dipper had decided a while before that the captain must really be insane, a thought that only intensified when he looked down at the bottle the demon was proffering. But he’d go along with it, as he had learned was best to do. While he was burning with curiosity, he didn’t want to purposely aggravate the demon, not if he could help it. Even as the captain was gentle to him, even as he had thoughts of this demon’s supposed humanity, he had never forgotten that he was his captor. And he could do anything to him, if he wanted.

So, shaking off his thoughts of the abrupt change in conversation, forcing the curiosity back into a small box in his mind, he focussed his attention on the bottle the captain was offering and forced himself to wrinkle his nose a bit. He was too young to drink, he knew that. And even if he hadn’t been, he wasn't sure if he should drink alcohol on a beyond empty stomach. He recalled his great uncle mentioning that that was not a smart idea. And there also was the problem of him being chained to the wall, and being too weary to get up and grab the bottle from the pirate.

However, instead of answering the demon's question, Dipper simply raised his arms, showcasing the manacles that were there. He didn’t feel like speaking, didn’t feel like wasting his breath reminding the demon of his age. And part of him did it to remind the captain that he was a prisoner, not someone to drink with. Perhaps unwise, but he felt it was better than the confusing way the captain was offering him a drink, as if they were friends. However, it appeared the demon took it the wrong way, his head tilting in contemplation for a moment, before standing clumsily. Dipper watched with distrust and mild fear as the demon fumbled with a set of keys that he kept on his belt, opening the cell a moment later. The captain then sauntered forward, his body swaying lightly as he moved, taking a seat right in front of Dipper, whose heart was pounding as he watched the demon sit with wide eyes. He could see a lazy grin rise on the demon’s face as he held out his bottle once more.

"There we go. That's better. Now, want some rum? 'S good."

Well, that was the opposite of what he had intended, he thought sardonically through his slight panic. He had wanted the demon to go away, not come closer. Even as his heart beat fast, wondering if he should be concerned at the fact there was a pirate in his cell, he forced a scowl of displeasure to rise on his face as he stared at the demon who had invaded his prison.

When the demon shook the bottle in his hands a little, eyebrow raised, Dipper tore his eyes from the captain and instead looked at the bottle- his heart slowing as his body registered the fact the captain didn’t seem likely to hurt him just then- and felt distaste filling him. He really didn't want to drink the rum. The scent of it had always made him gag, the few times he had seen his great uncle drinking it after a rough day at sea. But he could also see the challenge in the demon's still too clear eye, the mockery and condensation. After years of being looked upon like a clueless child, he found he absolutely despised that look; even more so when it came from the pirate captain, it seemed. And with his fear fading, his indignation was able to take precedent in his mind.

"Well, Pine Tree? I'm waitin'. Gonna make me wait for forever before you take it? Or are you just waitin' for your balls ta drop?"

Well, that settled it. With a scowl, real this time, Dipper yanked the bottle from the captain's hand- startling a laugh from the demon- before bringing it to his lips. He hesitated for only a second, wondering if this was a good idea or not, before tipping the bottle back and taking a large swallow.

Almost as soon as the rum hit his taste buds, he found himself gagging, nearly spitting the liquid back out onto the captain before he managed to stop himself, swallowing painfully. He started coughing a second later, the alcohol burning his throat as it went down, his head swimming. He could distantly hear the captain laughing hysterically, but he couldn't find it in him to really care. He felt terrible, his lungs heaving pained breaths as he tried to get the foul taste from his tongue. It took him a few moments to calm his body down, his mind pounding again as he sat back against the wall. The demon, he saw, was hunched over with his laughter.

"Oh! Oh! My sides! Ha! Pine Tree, that was gold! Ha!" The demon laughed, looking up and grinning widely at him. Dipper scowled darkly back, his cheeks feeling red hot, which seemed to make the demon laugh even louder. It took a while for the captain to calm himself.

"Ah, Pine Tree. You're too much." The captain chuckled once he had mostly calmed down, wiping a pretend tear away from his eye. He was smirking at the still scowling Dipper, which caused the boy to scowl harder, his embarrassment mounting with each second that passed. Oh, how he hated being treated like a child. He watched bitterly as the demon then tilted his head, his eye filled with amusement as he slowly grinned, somehow softer than his usual one. "Has anyone ever told you that you look adorable when you're mad? Your face gets all squishy and hilarious."

Dipper felt his eyes widen at that, spluttering as offense filled him. Adorable?! Had the captain seriously just called him adorable?! For one thing, he was _not_  adorable, he thought as he bared his teeth at the captain. He was very manly, thank you very much. For another thing, what kind of pirate captain called someone _adorable_? ‘Bill’ must be more inebriated than he had thought, Dipper mused darkly with distaste.

"Seriously, it's like tryin' ta argue with a puppy." The demon claimed, before reaching a hand out and ruffling Dipper's hair.

"Hey!" Dipper shouted, smacking the hand away, annoyance filling his face. The demon chuckled again, settling back down on the ground, a soft smirk on his face. Dipper felt his heart lurch unpleasantly, and wondered what the hell was going on. Something about this felt so wrong, he just… couldn’t put his finger on it. His head was feeling kind of fuzzy, now.

"Relax, kid. Just havin' a bit o' fun. Since you clearly don't like rum, hand me the bottle. Don't wanna let a good drink go to waste, ey?" The demon demanded, holding out a hand, which Dipper glared at. He considered not giving the bottle back out of spite, but decided against it, as he wouldn't put it past the captain to come over and take it from him. And he really didn't want the demon to be too close to him. So- with a bit of grumbling- he handed the bottle back, the cool, solid bottle getting taken from his grasp, the briefest touch of warm fingers brushing his as he let go. He felt his breath hitch at that, yet decided to not think of it. Couldn’t really, with how muddled his head was.

He then leaned back against the wall, a groan escaping his lips unbidden as he felt his head pound. The alcohol had not helped him at all; in fact, it had just made things worse. Even though he had only had one sip, he could feel it invading his body, the poison spreading through him angrily. He didn't like this feeling. It wasn't like the time he had had the one drink with Wendy and her friends. This time was much worse, probably because of his empty stomach and injuries. And the noise that was still coming from upstairs wasn't helping, making his head pound unpleasantly. A silence rose between him and the captain, which allowed him to think. And wonder.

He didn't understand the captain. The demon was a pirate, the scourge of the seas. He killed for fun and thieved for sport. He had a list of crimes a mile long and repented none of them. And yet... And yet, here he was, staying down here with him instead of staying in the upper decks with his crew. Here he was, acting almost like they were friends, when they most certainly were not. And as much as Dipper certainly was annoyed at the captain's antics, he couldn't really say that the demon was being... evil. Or morally wrong. It was more innocent than that, more friendly. Honestly, it reminded him a bit of Wendy, and of how he acted with Wendy, if he had to put a name to it. Which was a scary thought, considering.

He blinked in surprise when he heard the demon who was sitting in front of him shift, forcing him to turn his tired eyes to the man. As he stared, he couldn’t help wondering just why he was there. Why he wasn’t upstairs with his crew, why he wasn’t celebrating with them. Why he was spending his time down here alone with a prisoner, rather than up there with his crew. It baffled him, and he burned to know the answer. Burned to know _why_. That desire mounted when he saw the look the man- yes, man, in this moment he was just too human, Dipper couldn’t remember why he wasn’t a human- had on his face. The look of silent intrigue and curiosity that was so goddamn human. The peace and the serenity. God, he needed to know why.

"Why are you here?" He mumbled softly, almost to himself, eyes fixed on the captain. He watched as the man blinked, tilting his head in confusion as he looked down at him, a small frown on his face.

"It's my ship. Why shouldn't I be here?" The captain asked somewhat defensively, his back stiffening as a cold look entered his eye. Dipper shook his head slightly, as much as he dared with his pounding head. Part of him wanted to just forget the whole thing, knowing the question was stupid, but his mouth refused to listen to his mind and continued without his permission.

"Not what I meant. I meant why are you here, and not with your crew. I can hear them celebrating. Why would you, their captain, be down here with me, your prisoner, instead of up there with them, your crew? I don't understand." He stated, still softly, eyes beseeching.

The captain stiffened more, his eye cold as he looked down at Dipper, before he relaxed. Dipper saw as the man grinned, manic and utterly false, and felt like groaning. He knew then that he wasn't going to get a straight answer. He may not have known the pirate for long, but he knew enough to know that his grin was his defense. That when he was grinning like that, 99% of what he said was either a lie, or the truth disguised as a lie.

"Same answer stands, Pine Tree. Why not? 'Ve been a part o' this ship long enough that their revels bore me. Here, my quarters, the upper deck; doesn't matter much which I'm at. 'S’long as I'm interested, ey? And you, Pine Tree, are interestin'." The man shrugged, taking another swig of his rum.

Silence overtook them after that, Dipper staring at the captain and the captain staring at the wall, his grin frozen. Dipper would be lying if he didn't say that he was intrigued by the answer, wanting more answers to the questions that response had created, but his mind was working again, barely, and stopped him before he could voice his questions. He didn't want the captain to get angry at him. No matter how human he may seem in this second, Dipper couldn't forget that he was a murderer. And that he might hurt him if crossed. He was still burning to know, though. Oh, how he wanted to know.

"Well, this has been fun, Pine Tree." The man claimed- a bit stiffly- several minutes later, breaking the heavy silence in the room. The sudden noise jarred Dipper, the boy jerking slightly in surprise. He felt himself flush just a bit when he realized that he had been staring at the captain for the entire time, ducking his head in embarrassment. "But I'm afraid I've got to be goin'. Places ta be, things ta do; you know how it is. See you tomorrow, Pine Tree."

With that, the man- demon, demon, he was a demon not a man, God Dipper remember that- got up clumsily and sauntered away, hips swaying slightly as he moved. Dipper wondered, absently, how he did that. How he made walking seem so elegant. Graceful. Like a dance. He then watched as the man- demon- exited the cell and locked it, sending him a small grin before turning and leaving the room.

Dipper stared at the door for several minutes after that, his head still pounding. He wanted to think, wanted to puzzle the captain out, but he found he couldn't. His mind was muddled, from pain or alcohol he wasn't sure anymore, and he found he couldn't put even two thoughts together.

But he had to remember one thing, even if everything else faded away. No matter how kind the demon- yes, demon, he was a demon, _he was a demon_ \- pretended to be, he wasn't a friend. He wasn't someone to be interested in. Just because the _demon_  was shrouded in mystery didn't mean he had to solve it. It didn't mean that under the mystery was a human being who was good. It was Mabel who always saw the best in people; he was the practical one. The one who knew that not everyone was good. As long as he remembered that, as long as he didn't get tricked, he'd be fine.

God, he was tired, he thought as he laid down. Maybe that was why he was thinking charitable thoughts about his captor. He was delusional from lack of sleep and hunger. He remembered, distantly, the deal he had made with the captain. He wondered if the demon would remember and honor it. Probably not, he thought as his mind started to drift into the nothingness of sleep.

When he woke the next morning, beside his head was a plate full of meat.

In between bites, he mentally thanked the pirate captain, knowing he'd never say those words out loud.


	8. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all. Hope you had a good holiday (or, if you're not American, a good week.) Mine was okay. 
> 
> So the next chapter is up! Hooray. Not much happens in this chapter, it's mostly just a transition. An ending to Dipper's musings and some of his confusion. A lot happens next chapter, though, so look out for that. 
> 
> Oh! So, I've not been able to do much writing on this story this week. I've hit a bit of a writer's block and my head refuses to pass it. However, I did write a one-shot! It has nothing to do with this story, nor does it have to do with Dipper or Bill. It's about Grunkle Stan while he was homeless. It's kind of an offshoot of my other Gravity Falls story, The Life of Pines, which is all about Stanley's life, but it can be read alone. It is called Moments in Time and can be found in my works if anyone is interested. Warning, it is pretty dark, as it deals with suicide (not Stanley's, not directly, but still.)
> 
> And... that's it. Thanks for all the reviews/comments last chapter. Please keep them coming. :-) 
> 
> Enjoy! (And happy early Chanukah!)

A week. He had been on this ship for a week. A long, boring, _confusing_  week. A whole week since he had been on his great uncle's ship, safe and sound. Since he had last seen his sister.

Dipper currently was sat in the Captain's office, listening as the demon rambled about a fight he had won against another pirate captain when he was younger. He had to admit that the captain was an excellent story teller, even if the story itself was a bit gruesome. But even with the dramatic story, the animated way the captain spoke, Dipper felt his mind wandering.

He didn't know where he stood on the pirate captain anymore. Sometimes he hated him with every fiber of his being, where just the thought of the demon would make him seethe and curse, alone in his cell. But other times... Other times he found himself wondering about the demon. The man. What he was, why he did what he did. How he could be so casual about something as horrible as murder and death, but then be so gentle when tending to his wound.

Ever since that day the captain had met him in the brig, piss drunk, Dipper had felt conflicted. When he had woken up and eaten the food the captain had ordered for him, he found himself, for the first time, feeling truly grateful to the demon. Which was sick, seeing as how he shouldn't have to be grateful for something as simple as food. Something that would have been a given, had the demon not been utterly and completely insane.

But he still started seeing the demon more and more as human. Not a particularly _good_  human, but human nonetheless. And that was huge, for him. He remembered, distinctly, the night he decided that all pirates were scum. When not a single one could possibly have a shred of goodness or humanity in them. The night he had looked into the eyes of his broken sister and had known that he would never, ever forgive pirates for what they had done. It didn't matter if they weren't a part of _his_  crew, it didn't matter if they had never even seen that particular monster. They all were evil; they all were monsters. And yet he was starting to see _Bill_  as something other. Something different. Something flawed, but human.

And it wasn't helping that the demon had changed a bit since that day. That he acted less grandiose, less psychotic. Dipper could see now, as the captain spoke, that he seemed less on edge. He didn't grin as sharply, didn't look as angry. He didn't put on airs, didn't try and intimidate him anymore. Well, not as much as he had. He also was feeding Dipper now, once in the morning and once in the evening. That allowed the boy to heal properly and stopped his swimming headaches. Stopped the muddled thoughts he had been having.

And now here he found himself, a prisoner for only a week and yet already feeling his opinion of the captain changing. It was utterly terrifying. This was the same demon who had possibly killed his great uncle, who had at least been seconds away from ending the man's life. The same demon who had nearly killed him, who still had ‘big plans’ of selling him. Those were the things that had caused him to think of him as a demon in the first place. So why, on Earth, was he starting to change his opinion? How could he allow himself to even entertain the idea that this demon could possibly have any humanity in him?

He let out a soft sigh, running a hand through his curls. This was all so very confusing. The demon was practically the only person he had spoken to in a week and it was messing him up. He was actually starting to believe the captain's lies. Starting to believe that he wasn't a complete and total monster.

"Hey Pine Tree, you listening? It's rude, you know, to ignore a person who's talking. Don't they teach that to you upper class people? Respect your betters, or something like that?" The demon stated, interrupting the boy's wandering thoughts. In response to the question, Dipper screwed his face up in annoyance.

"They do. Not my fault, though, that your story's so boring. And you're not my better," he claimed, with a raised eyebrow. He watched as the demon rolled his one eye, a sardonic grin appearing on his face.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I boring you? Want a more interesting story? 'Cause I've got a lot to share. How about the time I managed to escape the noose by using the intestines of my cell mate? Or the time I killed an entire room of naval officers who were attempting to take me down?" Upon seeing Dipper's disgusted face, the demon chuckled. "No? Then allow me to finish my daring tale of heroism. Now, as I was saying…"

That was another thing that was disturbing him, he thought as he watched the pirate continue his story. How easily he spoke to the pirate now. How he was practically asking the demon to get angry at him for his insolence, to get the demon to show his true colors. Yet the captain didn't. He would just grin and shoot a quip back. Yes, he would usually add a casual remark of his murders, but even that wasn't scaring or disturbing Dipper as much as it used to. It should. It really should. The pirate captain was a menace. He killed for fun. He repented nothing. He shouldn't be speaking so casually to him. Like they were friends.

What would Mabel think, if she were here? If she could see him now? Would she be disgusted in him? Would she understand why he was feeling what he was feeling? She always did try and see the good in people. Maybe she wouldn't think him insane for wanting to believe that about… about Bill. But then, Mabel also hated pirates. More so than he did. When she spoke of them, those few times that she did, it was always with vitriol. With complete and total loathing. So perhaps she wouldn't get it. Get his changing feelings. Maybe she would hate him for even thinking that Bill could be human.

Oh, he hated this. Why did the demon have to be kind to him? Why couldn't he have just locked him in his cell and thrown away the key? Yes, that would be terrible, but at least he wouldn't feel so conflicted. So confused. It was like the demon was purposely torturing him this way, by acting so human.

Dipper, with his thoughts churning, watched the demon speak, watched him grin and watched him move. It was fascinating to witness, to be honest. How open the demon's face was while he spoke, the excited and triumphant gleam in his eye as he told the part of the tale where he defeated the pirate captain once and for all, which had made him infamous amongst pirates. That little smug, self-satisfied grin the demon got as he sat back, turning his attention back on him. Such a bizarre look, on a pirate who was meant to be ragged and gruff. He's not supposed to have such a normal facial expression. He's not supposed to feel anything other than cruelty and hatred. Dipper just didn't know why he did.

Dipper watched, then, as the demon stood and grabbed the bottle of herbs that he kept on his desk, his eye locked on Dipper's as he moved towards him. Dipper, his thoughts still racing and confused, simply followed the demon with his eyes, his mind burning with the questions he had. The demon tilted his head to the side as he reached the boy, gazing down at him with a curious look, before kneeling slowly. Dipper wished he wouldn't. Didn't want him so close, because up close was when he always was kind. Dipper didn't want him to be kind. Didn't want to think good of the Yellow Demon of the seas.

"Something on your mind, Pine Tree?" The demon muttered as he carefully rolled Dipper's sleeve up, his fingers trailing lightly on the skin below, causing goosebumps to raise on the boy's skin. Dipper felt his face flush just a bit at the hooded look the demon was sending him, not quite sure what to make of it. "You look perturbed."

"N-no. I'm just... Just thinking," he replied, stuttering just a bit when the demon lightly brushed his fingers over the mostly healed wound. The captain hummed softly.

"I see," he muttered, taking a bit of the herbs and spreading them on his fingers. "Your wound's getting better. Should be completely healed in a week or two."

Dipper felt himself nod as the captain began rubbing the herbs onto the healing cut, glad he hadn't continued asking him about what he was thinking. He didn't want to admit that he was conflicted on the demon's morality. He didn't want anyone to ever know that, least of all the captain himself. He turned his attention then onto his wound, looking down at it as the demon gently rubbed the medicine into it. He tried his best to ignore the demon and focus only on the cut, not wanting to think of the captain. It was making his head hurt.

The wound really was getting better, he thought as he stared at it. It still hurt occasionally, when he moved it too suddenly or when he slept on it awkwardly. The worst was over, though, the herbs and cleaning helping the infection to die. Funny how just five days ago it felt like his shoulder was going to fall off with pain, and now it barely hurt. Whatever herbs the captain had must be extremely potent, he mused. Whomever he had thieved them from must have been very rich.

The process of putting the medicine on didn't last very long now, since the demon no longer needed to clean the wound out. The demon remained kneeling before him, however, even after the medicine was fully distributed, staring at him.

As the moments passed, Dipper began to feel uneasy, not sure what to think. Sitting there, the captain made him feel nervous and disturbed. Because no matter how friendly the demon acted, Dipper noticed that there was always a spark of darkness in the demon's eye that he could see. Even as he mused about the demon's morality, he knew that the captain would never be a good person. He would always have that darkness inside him. And seeing him so close, staring so intently, made him feel trapped and afraid. And… wrong. Like the darkness in the demon would somehow be able to eat him whole. Like that was what the demon wanted. Almost like _he_ , himself, wanted it too.

He let out a shuddering breath of relief when the demon finally stood and walked away, over to the wall, where he stood facing the large map that resided there. Minutes passed in silence as he simply watched the demon stand, not sure what to say. If he should say anything. The demon confused him and he didn't know what to think around him. Didn't know if he should be terrified or relaxed. It was exhausting.

"Tell me, Pine Tree," the demon began after a while, turning back to face Dipper slightly, "are you afraid of me?"

"Yes," Dipper said without any hesitation, not needing to even think to answer. And it was true. Dipper was terrified of the demon. Almost even more so now that he was beginning to think of him as human. Because that simply opened a whole other line of problems, he was realizing as he stared at the demon. Such as, if the captain was human, how could he do such terrible things so simply? If he had the capability to be human, why would he choose to be a monster?

Well, there was always one explanation. One he had thought of briefly, but never seriously. But now, watching the man watching him, the thought popped into his head unbidden. Yes, the demon might be human. Yes, he might have some goodness in him. While he may be terrible, and quite possibly evil, he was still human. He just had a darkness in him. An evil that he couldn't escape. Human, but not good. And this thought made him feel panic.

Because there was another thing that he felt. Yes, he knew the… man was not a good man, but part of him wanted to see past that. To see more of the… of the _goodness_  that resided in the pirate captain. To see more of that humanity. Oh, how he wished he didn't feel that way. That he could forget the thoughts he had been having. That he could simply hate the demon, that he only saw him only as a monster. Because monsters were only that, monsters. This was so much more complicated and made him question everything, including his own morals.

"Good," the demon claimed after a while, staring at the boy with an emotionless eye, "you should be."

Silence pervaded then, thick and stifling. Dipper shuffled in his seat a bit and stared at the ground. Everything was so confusing. He thought the captain was a demon, but he also thought he was human. He thought the captain was a terrible person, and yet still wanted to know him better. To figure him out. It was frustrating.

"Hey Pine Tree, I've got another question," the demon stated, minutes later, turning to face him completely then, a grin on his face. Another abrupt change in conversation, it seemed. Dipper looked back up and scrunched his eyebrows in confusion.

"Okay..." he said, frowning just a bit. His recent revelation was messing with him. That the captain could be both human and a pirate was baffling. Perhaps it shouldn't, because logically it made sense, but to him it was. Because for over a year he had convinced himself that pirates weren't human, that they were monsters. That there was nothing good or clean in them. Changing that view was startling and terrifying, and Dipper was going to have to evaluate it later when he was alone. But not now. Now, the captain was looking at him and asking him a question, a question he would need to answer. He mentally shook himself and focussed on the words.

"Call me curious, but I was wondering, what interests you? Back on that ship of yours. What does an upperclassman like you do for fun while at sea for weeks and months at a time?" The demon (man? Should he call him a man now, with what he had realized? He didn't know. He didn't know) asked, his grin wide. Dipper blinked at the question, it not having been anywhere close to what he might have expected, before thinking it through.

"Uh, well... I guess I like to read?" He began, before trailing off, not sure if he should keep going. This question was a personal one, wasn't it? Should he give personal information to this demon of a man? To this man who acted like a demon? He wasn't sure. But, judging by the expectant look on the captain's face, the man (?) was looking for a more elaborate answer. So Dipper continued carefully. "I, uh, also like to draw, sometimes. Or-or watch the ocean, when it's calm. And uh, I suppose I like looking at the stars, when the night is clear. And, you know, other various things..." he trailed off, hoping that was enough of an answer. He didn't really want to continue that train of thought, since the one thing he did most while on The Mystery was talk to his sibling.

Dipper watched then as the 'man' lit up, his eye bright with interest and humor as he looked down at him. It made Dipper's breath catch, the look so strange to see.

"You like to stargaze?" The _man_  asked, head tilted to the side slightly. Dipper blinked at the question, having not expected it either. Seemed Bill was full of surprises that day.

"Uh, yeah. Do you?" He questioned back, thinking that perhaps that was why the man looked so enthused about it. But, the captain only shrugged, grinning.

"As much as any captain does. I find that it is fitting for you, though. 'Cause of that peculiar little birthmark of yours," the man claimed, his eye darting to look at the birthmark that Dipper usually hid, but must have become exposed as the days passed. He felt himself flush as he brought his hand up to cover it. He had never liked his birthmark, always having gotten teased for it as a child. The captain didn't look like he was about to mock him for it, but who knew. His movement, though, did make the captain chuckle.

Before Dipper could speak, to defend himself or anything, a knock was sounded at the door, which caused the captain to look up and grin.

"Excuse me, Pine Tree," he said, before sauntering over to the door to get the food that he always got delivered at this time. Dipper followed the captain with his eyes as he spoke shortly to the pirate on the other side of the door. Ever since the man had started giving him food, Dipper tended not to stay while the captain ate. He wasn't quite sure why, but he supposed it was because Bill didn't find any amusement from it anymore.

So it didn't surprise him when the captain opened the door and let the hulking pirate in, who began to chain his arms while unchaining his legs from the chair. It was a bit jarring, their conversation ending so abruptly, but he had gotten used to that by now. The man never really bothered to end conversations at the end of their meetings. He just stopped and expected everyone else to be satisfied with the sudden conclusion.

"See you later, Pine Tree!" The captain grinned as Dipper was pulled up and marched from the room. He was only able to nod once in response, before he was dragged out and away, the cool sea air hitting his face as he moved across the ship's upper deck. He didn't have much time to enjoy the salty breeze before he was pulled into the doorway to the below decks. He tried not to feel disappointed, like he always did when he was brought back to his cell. So close to freedom, and yet so far. At least he was able to see it briefly twice each day, he thought morosely as he was dragged.

Once in his cell, the hulking pirate removing his ankle restraints and chaining him back to the wall, Dipper could feel his mind returning to the revelation he had had earlier, before the captain had changed the subject. The one that had changed everything in his mind. He didn't really want to examine the thoughts, but knew that he had to. It would eat at him otherwise.

So, the captain was human. He couldn't deny that anymore. The man had feelings and emotions just like anyone else. He understood this. It sort of made sense in his mind. If he was being honest, he had mostly come to terms with that the other night, when the man had spoken to him so casually while in his cell.

However, what didn't make sense to him was the thought that if Bill was human, wouldn't that possibly mean that every other pirate was human as well? That they all had emotions and feelings too, that they were people? That made something in Dipper rebel. The thought that those monsters- the same monsters who almost… hurt him, who had taken his parents from him- could be human too? That they deserved the same courtesies that every other human on the planet deserved? It made him gag, the thought too unpleasant to even entertain.

But wasn't that what he was doing with Bill? He knew that the captain wasn't innocent, that he had murdered and would probably murder again. He was just as bad as any other pirate in the world. So why should he get to be human, but the others don't? That was also baffling. That also didn't taste right.

Ugh, this was all so messed up, he thought as he buried his head in his arms. He didn't want to think of pirates as human. That was why he had stopped thinking of them as such. But Bill... Bill was human. He had to be. And yet he was also twisted, and sick, and morally wrong. And a pirate. Bill was human, and he was a pirate.

Stupid Bill Cipher. Dipper scowled at his arms as he lifted his head. It was all his fault. He changed everything. From the moment he had seen his image on the poster he still carried in his boot, his life had been rocky.

Dipper could feel his mind starting to churn, could feel his thoughts begin to worry the subject, and knew that he needed to change topics now before he drove himself mad. Because he knew he would, given the chance. He'd keep thinking and thinking and thinking, until he had twisted his thoughts up into knots of confusion.

So he thought of something else. Anything else. His parents. His sister. His life back at home. Anything was better than the morality of pirates.

Because pirates were scum, human or not human.

And Bill was no exception to that.

(Even if he wanted him to be.)


	9. The Great Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Another Saturday, another chapter. 
> 
> So, lots happens in this one. Fun fact: originally, this chapter wasn't supposed to exist. But then I got to thinking and realized I needed it, if only to make Dipper's character more in tune to what I think of him as. So, this chapter might seem a bit out of place, but overall I think it does add to the story. 
> 
> Also, a lot of you are probably going to hate Bill by the end of this chapter. Next chapter, though, we go into Bill and what he's thinking about all of this. And believe me when I say, he's not as bad as I'm making him out to be. Oh, he's still a murderer and is psychotic (in the psychological meaning of the word), but that's not all he is. 
> 
> And that's all. I want to take the time to thank everyone who has left a kudos or a bookmark, has favorited/followed, or has left a review/comment. You all mean the world to me. 
> 
> Oh! Happy Chanukah! It's technically tomorrow, for me, but I thought I'd say it now. ^-^
> 
> Enjoy!

Dipper let out a loud groan as he hit his head against the wooden wall. Not too hard, as to not damage his head again, but hard enough that he could feel it. At least it was something. Something, which was better than the mind-numbing nothing he was forced to sit in. Better than the churning thoughts he felt in his head.

He had been on this ship a week already. He had gone through a lot of emotional and physical trauma. He was finding his opinion of the captain of this ship changing, which was terrifying. He was having moral conflicts about pirates, which was even worse. And yet, here he sat, restless and bored out of his mind.

Don't get him wrong; it wasn't like he _wanted_  to spend time with any pirates. But he was getting so bored that he was honestly starting to hope someone would come down there and do something. Anything. Anything to distract him from the boredom. Or, if he was being truthful, from the thoughts that wanted to invade his mind. Because he didn't want to think of them, and the longer he was down here alone, the more his mind brought them up. But he wasn’t being truthful then, couldn’t be truthful. Not even to himself. _Especially_  not to himself. So boredom had to be the culprit for his internal panic. Had to be.

That was the problem of being a prisoner on a pirate ship, he thought bitterly as he glared at the wall, shaking his head to get the unwanted thoughts out. There wasn't anything to do. For the first several days, he had been too sick and in pain to really be bothered by the silence and nothingness. After that, he had been consumed by his curiosity about Bill. But now, now that he had mostly healed and had come to a semi-conclusion about Bill's humanity earlier that day, he found himself feeling that sting of frustration at not being able to do anything. He was still, of course, curious about the pirate captain, but now it was tempered by the dissatisfaction of being trapped. Yes, of being trapped. Without the burning questions of morality, everything else was starting to flood into his mind and he was realizing just how stupid he was being. Why was he curious about the pirate captain when he was trapped as a prisoner whilst on a pirate ship?

He felt like pulling his hair out. He was itching to do something, to move. He had already thought about everything he could and there was nothing else to think of. After all, a person could only think of their dead parents and the life they used to have so many times before cracking. And he didn't want to think about pirates and humanity. He, he couldn't think on that anymore. Not without going absolutely barmy. He also didn't want to think of Bill, didn't want to think of that man because of the wrongness he inspired inside of him. Which kind of limited what he could think of, honestly.

Dipper got up, then, and began pacing. It was difficult with the manacles weighing him down, but he needed to move. To feel like he was being active. He couldn't stand sitting there any longer, and he grit his teeth as he glared at the walls with vitriol.

Because honestly? What he needed most was to escape.

As he paced, Dipper was beginning to realize that he had allowed himself to get consumed by thoughts and curiosities of the pirate captain, which had side-tracked him from his main goal: getting off this ship. But now, as he itched with inactivity and restlessness, he remembered why he was here in the first place. He wasn't a guest, visiting this ship on his own free will. No, he was a prisoner. He had been taken captive while rescuing his sister. How on earth had he forgotten that?

Well, no matter. His… ‘restlessness’ had reminded him of his situation. The mystery of William 'Bill' Cipher didn't matter, in the long run. What mattered the most was getting off this ship and getting back to Mabel as soon as possible. Mabel… Oh God, Mabel.

Dipper faltered in his steps and felt his heart plummeting as he had a terrifying thought about his sister. Something he hadn't really entertained before, his mind so full of other worries. But now, with everything clearing in his mind, he had a thought. A heart-stopping, earth-shattering thought. Assuming that he had saved her and that she was alive, assuming that she had survived her drop into the ocean, then that meant she was currently on their great uncle's ship. Alone. Without him.

In all their lives, he had never been apart from his twin as long as he currently had been. He had never had to worry about her being left alone, because he was always right there beside her. But now he wasn't there. And she was alone. Yes, she might have their great uncle and their friends, but he was her family. Her brother. Her only living direct relative. And he had left her alone for an entire week. He had abandoned her.

He felt his eyes widen and his legs go weak as he thought that, leaning back against the wall for support. He had _abandoned_  Mabel. Not because he was here, taken captive on this pirate ship, but because he hadn't made any real effort to escape. Yes, he had thought of escape plans, but never was he being really serious. They were just ways to pass the time. The majority of him had simply accepted his fate and had gotten wrapped up in a mystery. He had forgotten about his sister, even as he had wondered if she was alive or not. He had forgotten how she would feel about all of this.

God, did Mabel even know if he was alive or not? He had assumed that Bill was going to kill him for defeating him and his men, what if Mabel thought that as well? He felt bile rise in his throat. Oh, no. If Mabel thought he was dead, if she didn't have hope for him coming back, then that meant that not only was she alone, but she was alone and lifeless. Broken. He remembered how she was, after their parent's death and he couldn't bear the thought of her going through that alone.

So he _had_  to get out, he decided as he stared at the wall. He had to get back to her. Today, if possible. To make up for the time he had lost thus far. After all, his sister needed him. And that was much more important than some stupid, mysterious pirate captain. Because Bill didn’t matter. Mabel… Mabel mattered. He remembered that now.

Dipper took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm his racing heart. Okay. So he was going to escape a pirate ship, at sea, today. He was going to get back to his sister, somehow. The sun had to nearly be down by now, if he recalled correctly. He knew that he visited Bill every day before noon, and a lot of time had passed since his now pointless revelation earlier. So yeah, nearly sunset.

Okay. A plan. Well, he should be getting his dinner soon. Bill saw to that, saw to him getting fed twice a day, for the past couple of days. Unless Bill had changed his mind, the pirate that brought him supper should be arriving any minute. That pirate had a set of keys on his belt, to allow the man access into his cell. That meant that if Dipper could distract the pirate for long enough, he could get the keys. After that he could leave his cell, and from there he would find a lifeboat and escape on it. There. That seemed like a solid enough plan. Just as long as he didn't get caught, he should be golden.

Okay. Okay. Great. This was happening. He was going to escape. Any minute now, phase one would be in effect and he'd be on his way to freedom. Great. Perfect. Wonderful.

Oh God. Dipper could feel his heart beating fast, could feel his breath quickening. He had to sit down, before he fainted.

Did he really want to do this? Escaping from a pirate ship, on nothing more than a rowboat, while in the middle of the ocean, with no provisions at all? Was that really smart? But, then again, what else could he do? If he tried to get supplies from the kitchen, he'd surely get caught. This was the only way he could possibly get off this ship. Which he totally wanted to do. Bill may be kinder to him than he had any right to be, but he was still his captor. Dipper was still a prisoner, who was going to be sold. He didn't belong here. He belonged with his sister. And the longer he waited, the more his conviction and determination would fade, so he had to escape today.

He had to do this. He had to. Mabel was depending on him. She needed him. He couldn't leave her alone any longer.

It was funny, though, that this all had started because he had felt restless. Because he had been bored. Now look at him. A half-baked escape plan and the determination to see it through. Funny, what boredom made people think about. Because it was totally just boredom that had sparked him into doing this, and not panic about his thoughts about pirates being human. And it most definitely wasn't because now that he was starting to see Bill as human, he was having thoughts of him that he really shouldn't. Thoughts of… _friendship_. Definitely not. He wasn't running away because he was scared. He just wanted to go back to his sister. That was it.

In order to not faint from nerves, Dipper took a seat on the ground and began to plot out what he would do to get the keys. He had thought of this briefly, absent musings back when he had first seen the keys that the hulking pirate had carried. It would be the same principle here, with the scrawny pirate that gave him food. It would be easier, in fact, because the scrawny pirate was not very bright. Dipper could distract him easily.

The minutes passed slowly for Dipper, his mind racing and his heart thudding. Half of him wanted to give up before he began and half of him wanted to just get it over with. He knew himself and knew that if he gave himself time to think about this, he'd never do it. But he had get off this ship. It was doing things to his head. Besides, he was doing better now, physically. His arm barely hurt him and his stomach was as full as could be whilst a prisoner. There would be no better time to escape. Today, tomorrow, a week from now- what did it matter? His plan was simple and there would be as many complications to it then as there were now. So why not try today? Why not run in the evening sun, where fewer people would see him? When he had the captain unsuspecting? Give him time and he might accidentally tip the captain off. The man was very perceptive, after all, and he wasn’t all that good at lying. So it was either now, or never. And he had to try. At least once, he had to try. No matter the consequences if he failed.

He nearly felt his heart stop when he heard the sound of the brig door opening, pale lantern light flooding into his dark cage. Dipper felt like he was about to throw up when he saw the scrawny pirate standing in the doorway, face blank. The pirate never spoke to him, simply brought him his evening meal in silence. He rarely even opened the cell, instead sliding the food in through the small gap in the bars meant for food. But Dipper needed him to open the cell and come in to see him. Luckily, he had a plan.

Letting out a fake moan, Dipper began clutching his stomach, trying to make his face turn as white as possible. His hair was messed up and waxy from being stuck in a prison for a week, so he knew he already looked sickly. It wouldn't be a stretch for him to act like he was ill. Then, the pirate would have to come in and make sure he wasn't dying. Right?

He watched surreptitiously as the pirate faltered, looking confused.

"Ye dyin' in thar?" The pirate questioned, shifting slightly. Dipper let out another groan.

"I don't feel good," he claimed, whimpering slightly. The pirate looked around a little, frowning. Dipper assumed that the pirate had to be roughly around his age, perhaps a year or two older. He did not seem to be the brightest of the bunch, which is why he thought that this might actually work. Any other pirate and they would get suspicious. But this one… he had a chance of fooling him.

"Do ye need th' cap'n?"

Well, no. No he didn't. If the pirate got Bill, this whole thing would be over before it began. He'd never be able to fool the captain. So Dipper shook his head slightly, groaning a little more.

"Unless you want to bother him. I just think I need the chamber pot," he claimed, looking over to the thing. They tended to leave it out of his reach, for whatever reason, and let him use it once or twice a day. Which was annoying, but at least now he had a reason for asking for it.

He watched as the pirate's face scrunched up with confusion, and mild revulsion. He could see the pirate was trying to figure out the pros and cons of helping him. Dipper just hoped he wouldn't see the problem with it. He knew that everyone on this ship was terrified of Bill, so hopefully the pirate wouldn't run off and get him for this.

Moments passed before the pirate nodded slowly, setting the food down on the table in the corner and getting the keys from his belt. Ha! Yes!

"Alright. I s'ppose I can do that," the pirate stated, before opening the cell and bringing in the chamber pot. Dipper held out a hand, in a silent plea for help getting up. The pirate sneered a bit, showing his distaste at helping the boy out, but went over anyway and yanked him upward. Dipper took the chance and grabbed at the keys the pirate had put back on his belt. Ha! He did it! He had the keys!

However, there was just one problem, now. One he hadn't thought of initially, but that plagued him now that he actually had the keys. When the pirate went to lock the cell on his way out, he'd find that his keys were missing and would raise the alarm. Dipper wouldn't have the time to escape before a dozen pirates were racing in there, ready to subdue him however possible.

That made Dipper falter slightly, looking at the pirate with wide eyes. He hadn't really thought of that at first, worrying more about actually getting the keys. He hadn't thought of what he would do after. He could see the pirate frowning in confusion as Dipper simply stood there, frozen with indecision. He needed to get this pirate out of the way. If he wanted to get out, he had to disable this pirate.

"What ye be waitin' fer? Get a mo-" The pirate began with annoyance, but he was unable to finish when Dipper balled his hand up and hit the pirate full force in the temple, like his great uncle had taught him once. If he did it properly, the pirate would get knocked clean out.

To his luck, the pirate crumbled an instant after he had let his punch fly. Dipper was shaking with adrenaline as he looked at the body on the ground, his breath shuddering as he thought of what he had just done. Well, no turning back now, he thought grimly. He hurriedly looked at the keys and found the one that would release his manacles and quickly took them off, rubbing his wrists with a grimace. It always made his wrists red and sore when they were removed. Bill would sometimes rub some herbs onto them, if they were particularly sore during their meetings, but otherwise left them alone. It was no matter anymore, though. He was free and would hopefully never have to put manacles on again. He just had to make sure he stayed that way.

After a moment of consideration, Dipper knelt down next to the pirate and slipped the manacles onto his wrists, before ripping a piece of cloth from the man's shirt and stuffing it into his mouth, so if he woke he couldn't raise the alarm. He could feel his heart pounding as he did so, feeling like he was going to throw up, but he had no choice. He had to leave. Mabel... Mabel needed him. He had to get back to The Mystery. And now that he had knocked this pirate out, he had to go through with his plan. In for a penny, in for a pound, and all that.

On his way out of the cell, Dipper paused, before taking the plate of food from the table and eating it quickly. Part of him wanted to bring it with him, for the journey across the sea, but he had nothing to carry it in. At least this way he would have some energy for his escape. Once he had finished the food, he stood for a second at the table, gathering his courage and trying to calm his racing heart, before he moved. He had to get a move on before anyone came looking for the young pirate. He had to hope that by the time they found him, he'd already be miles away from them. That meant he needed at least half an hour to get off the ship and out to sea.

With a cautious glance out the door, Dipper slowly slipped out of the brig, sneaking along the hallway as quick as he dared. During the times he had been brought to and from the captain's office, Dipper had made sure to create a mental map of the ship. He didn't know where everything was, but he knew enough that he was sure he'd be able to get out of the below decks. Once on the upper decks, he would have the interesting challenge of moving past all the pirates milling around without getting seen, but he could do it. He was good at sneaking, when he wanted to be.

As he slunk down the hall, he made sure to keep his eyes moving and his ears highly strained. He knew of each place he could possibly hide in this hallway, each nook and cranny that would provide coverage. He had purposely looked for them during the times he had been marched through here. He had known that one day it would be useful. So that if he saw a pirate, he could potentially hide from him and not get caught.

It was as he was reaching the ladder that would lead him to the upper decks that he heard the boisterous laughter of pirates. Heart leaping into his throat, Dipper had only a second to dive behind the ladder and into the shadows before three pirates began descending down into the below decks, stumbling slightly.

"'N, 'n then I said to him, 'what ye be doin', stealin' me gold?' Then, I took out me gun 'n blasted his head clear off!" One of the pirate boasted, which caused the other two to howl with laughter. Dipper didn't really get what was funny, but whatever. He just hoped that they would move on soon.

However, to his detriment, the pirates paused at the bottom of the steps, lingering as they spoke to each other. No! Dipper could practically feel the seconds pass as they stood around, like a noose descending around his neck. He couldn't afford to wait here, but he couldn't pass them, not without getting caught. Oh, this wasn't good. Why exactly did he decide to do this again? Oh, right. Mabel. She needed him.

Heart pounding, Dipper looked around, trying to find a way he could get passed the pirates. He paused, however, when he overheard what they were talking about.

"-anyone be knowing whar Jimmy be? He's s'pposed th' be meetin' me fer sword practice after supper," one of the pirates asked, scowling at the others. Dipper was desperately hoping that 'Jimmy' wasn't who he was fearing he was.

"Yarr, I reckon he's below in th' brig, feedin' th' cap'n's prisoner," another pirate- the first one who had spoken- replied, confirming Dipper's fear. Great. So now he had even less time than he had originally hoped, if these pirates were looking for the pirate he had knocked out. He tried not to freak out as he started desperately looking for a way out. He needed to get moving. He stopped, though, when the pirates continued their conversation.

"It just be me, or be th' cap'n bein' a wee bit overly friendly to that lad o' his?" The third pirate questioned, frowning at the other two, who both got considering looks on their faces. Dipper could feel his eyes widen as he realized they were speaking of him. Despite his terror at getting caught, he could feel his morbid curiosity rise, part of him wanting to know what these pirates thought of how Bill treated him.

"Yarr, ever since that laddie came on board, th' cap'n's be different. Fiercely protective 'o th' laddie, isn't he?" The first pirate replied, frowning back. The second pirate snorted.

*"Too protective, if ye ask me. A couple 'o th' boys 'n I tried to have a bit 'o fun wit' th' laddie when he first came on th' ship, but the cap'n found out 'n went mad, threatenin' Daniel, nearly makin' 'im wet his knickers. No one can touch th' laddie without th' cap'n gettin' furious," the second pirate scowled, his words making Dipper's blood run cold. This was one of the men who had… that first night, who had tried to… Dipper felt himself shuddered, bile rising in his throat as he looked at the pirate. He forced himself to keep listening, dragging his eyes away from the pirate, needing to take his mind off of that particular monster lest he do something stupid.

"Wonder what the kid is offerin' to th' cap'n to make 'im so protective. Must be one heck 'o a lay to get th' cap'n interested," the third pirate claimed crudely, wiggling his eyebrows and making the other two guffaw. Finally, though, they began to move away from the ladder and further into the hallway.

*"Ah well. S'long as th' cap'n don't start goin' overly soft, he can get as much pleasure from th' laddie as he wants," the first pirate claimed as they moved away. One of the other two replied, but Dipper had stopped listening. Their conversation was a vile one, and he had to get going soon. Especially if those pirates were looking for the one he had detained. He tried to put the conversation out of his mind as he creeped carefully up the stairs, ignoring the tumultuous emotions it had stirred up in him. Who cared if those stupid pirates thought he was sleeping with the captain? They were wrong, so it didn't matter what they thought. Besides, he had bigger things to worry about. Much bigger.

When he reached the top of the narrow stairs, the conversation safely contained in the back of his mind, he slowly opened the door to the outside and peeked out. He couldn't linger here long, in case someone came up behind him, but he couldn't just barrel out. He'd get caught if he did. He had to be cautious, but not too cautious. Shouldn't be too hard to do, he thought sardonically.

As he peeked out, he saw that the coast was clear and that there did not seem to be very many pirates milling around. Most were probably downstairs at dinner, if this ship had a centralized meal like The Mystery did. That would be in his favor, he hoped. He could see that the sun was setting in the sky, which was also good. While rowing in the dark wouldn't be fun, it would give him cover. And, if he remembered properly, the moon should be full tonight, so it wouldn't be pitch black at least.

Well, now or never, he thought as he slowly slunk out of the door, pressing himself against the wall as soon as he was fully out. He couldn't see anyone, but that didn't mean that they couldn't see him. It was with care that he slid against the wooden wall of the ship. Couldn't be too careful, after all. When he ran out of wall to slide against, he took his chance and dashed to where he could see the life boats sitting, just waiting for him to use one.

Oh, he was so close. He could taste the salt air, could hear the roar of the waves. This had to work. He had to escape. He didn't know if he could return to that cell after coming so close to freedom.

He quickly set to work untangling the ropes and cords on the life boat and could feel his heart pounding as he began lowering the boat into the ocean. Oh, he was so close. He could feel his nerves flaring as he worked, hope pervading his body as he did his best to keep the sound of the creaking pulley as low as possible. Just a few more moments, and he'd be off the ship. Just a handful of minutes and he'd be _free_.

Just as he was swinging his leg over the edge of the rowboat, Dipper heard a shout get sounded from somewhere behind him. Nearly falling off the ship with his startled jerk, Dipper looked behind him and felt his heart stop as he saw a burly pirate running towards him. He had been caught. No! No!

With a hammering heart, Dipper jumped into the boat and tried to lower the boat into the water. He was positive that once he had reached the sea he'd be safe. He'd be free. But he didn't even get the chance to touch the rope before he felt an iron grasp clutch his shoulder and dragged him back onto the ship, despite his bitter fighting. No! He was so close, he couldn't get caught now! It wasn't fair!

He could feel the pirate restraining him, holding his arms against the body, which just made him struggle harder. He kicked, and he screamed, but nothing worked. He only stopped fighting when he felt the blade of a dagger against his throat, pressed so close he could feel droplets of blood dripping down his skin. He had failed. Mabel…

The pirate that was holding him was yelling something behind him, to other pirates who had heard his initial shout, but Dipper wasn't paying attention. He was shuddering as he stared at the deck below him, fear and despair rising in his mind. He hadn't succeeded and now not only was he not going to be able to go back to Mabel, but he was probably going to be punished for his attempted escape, if not murdered. But he didn't regret his attempt for freedom. He had to do this, even though he had failed. He had to prove, if only to himself, that he wasn't going to take this. That he wasn't a star struck child who was sleeping with the captain of a pirate ship. He was a fighter. He wasn't someone who laid down and died. He was Dipper Pines, goddamn it, and he wasn't going to let these pirates forget it. Wasn’t going to let _himself_  forget it.

But then he heard that voice. The one that haunted his dreams and nightmares, the one that he heard every day. And he felt his blood run cold.

"Well, well, what have we here, hmm? Escaping, are you, Pine Tree?" The captain asked, his high pitched voice colder than the ocean and ten times as deadly. Dipper looked up, his eyes meeting the captain's single one. He shivered at the ice that resided there, the anger and hatred turning the captain's face into something so twisted and evil, Dipper understood just why he had always thought of this man as a demon. In this moment, there was no humanity in Bill Cipher. Just coldness and anger.

Silence prevailed and time stopped as Dipper stared into the captain's eye. He didn't register as more and more pirates flooded onto the deck, nor did he register their muttered conversations. All he could see was the pirate captain and the darkness that resided in him. Dipper didn't think he had ever been as terrified of the man as he currently was, not even that first day when the captain had nearly killed him. Because even then, he hadn't looked quite as furious as he did now.

A minute passed as the two just stared at each other, before the captain tore his gaze off of Dipper and onto the pirate that was holding him.

"What happened," the demon- for in this moment, he was firmly a demon in Dipper's eyes- bit out to the pirate.

"I caught 'im tryin' to escape th' ship in one 'o th' lifeboats, cap'n. He had nearly gotten away when I caught 'im 'n dragged 'im back on board," the pirate relayed, his grip tightening a bit. Dipper shuddered as he saw the captain's face get impossibly colder, eye nearly black with rage. He watched as the demon grinned sharply, no hint of humor in it as he turned his gaze back on Dipper.

"Is that so?" The demon hissed, his voice taunt and sharp. Dipper could see out of the corner of his eyes as each pirate on deck took a step back, clearly not wanting to get caught in their captain's rage. His attention was brought back to the captain when the demon strode forward, grabbing his shirt and bringing their faces close together, the arms restraining him letting go.

"After I treat you so kindly, after I save you from my men, this is how you repay me? By trying to escape?" The demon hissed darkly. The emotion in his eye was so much clearer up close, Dipper thought as he stared. Anger and hatred and coldness, mixed with an emotion Dipper couldn't place. Or, better, that he didn't want to place. Because there was no way the demon was feeling betrayed.

"I wanted to go home," Dipper breathed shakily, when he realized the captain was waiting for a response. He had wanted it to come out strong and clear, wanted to remind the captain that he was a prisoner and that he hated it, but his throat had betrayed him. He owed nothing to the captain, but he could feel the beginnings of shame filling him as he saw how the demon was looking at him. And he hated it.

"Well, you don't _get_  to go home, Pine Tree," the pirate captain spat, face twisted in hatred. "You belong to me. You don't ever get to go home again."

Dipper felt his eyes widen at the words, wanting to feel indignant, but unable to through the shiver of fear that flooded through him. He already knew that he wasn’t going to be going home, his chance of going home had gone up in smoke minutes ago. So that wasn’t what caused the shiver of fear. No, what scared him was that he could tell that the demon meant it. The captain really thought that Dipper belonged to him. And that… that was utterly terrifying.

"Cap'n! What's his punishment goin' to be?" A voice suddenly called out from the crowd. The captain tore his eye from Dipper and looked towards where the voice had come from and got a darkly contemplative look on his face.

"His punishment..." the demon mused, turning his gaze once more onto Dipper, who felt his face lose all color at the cruel darkness that resided there. He could only watch, his heart frozen in his chest, as the demon started to grin slowly. Insane. Deranged. Twisted. Utterly, and completely, terrifying.

"I know what his punishment will be," The demon claimed, a manic giggle escaping his lips. He sobered a second later, though, that twisted darkness returning. Dipper felt, then, as the captain tossed him to the side, onto the hard deck below.

"Someone tie him up to the mast. Front first. Make sure to remove his shirt and keep his back exposed. I will be back shortly," he heard the demon say, before light footsteps echoed away from him. Dipper could feel arms grabbing at him, but he couldn't find it in him to fight that hard. He put in a token attempt, but his heart wasn't in it. He felt too terrified and wrong to fight. After all, he had been defeated. What was the point of fighting now?

When a pirate began removing his shirt, though, he began to thrash, panic flooding through him. He couldn't help but remember that first night on board and he felt so afraid. But the pirate won and he found himself getting tied to the mainmast, almost hugging it with arms in front and his back completely exposed. He began shuddering as he realized what was going to happen.

He had seen this punishment once before. His great uncle had given it out when one of the sailors had messed up spectacularly and had ruined an entire shipment of goods. He had been on the ship for nearly six months at the time and he had felt sick as he watched his great uncle tie the sailor to the mainmast, before proceeding to whip him. Stan had only done it three times, but each were sharp and left blood in their wake. He hadn't been able to look his great uncle in the eye for weeks afterwards, even though he had understood why the man had done it. Discipline was a necessary tool for the master of a ship, or else anyone could take control. But it was terrifying to watch. And, apparently, infinitely worse to experience.

Time passed slowly as he waited for the captain to return, forced to listen as the pirates around him called out jeers and insults. He wanted this to get over with as quickly as possible. He hated the feeling of the pirates' eyes on him, hated feeling like they were devouring him whole with looks alone.

He knew the moment the captain returned, because a loud cheer was let out from the crowd, only to be silenced a second later. He closed his eyes and tried not to shake too badly as he awaited the punishment he knew was coming.

Instead of the sting of a whip, though, he felt as warm fingers trailed on the oversensitive skin of his back, causing him to shiver out of something other than fear. He opened his eyes when he felt warm breath on his face, hardly surprised when he saw the golden eye directly in front of his face. He noticed that it was no longer cold and furious. Instead, it was now blank and emotionless as it stared into his own. A small, shuddering breath escaped him, fear and confusion entering him as time passed. He saw as the demon's fingers lifted a bit and come close to his cheek, only to stop at the last second, a millimeter of space between his cheek and the captain's fingertips. The captain then balled his hand into a fist, his face frozen and blank as he turned and walked back around the mast, so he was at Dipper's back again. The boy shuddered with fear and something else.

The pirates began hollering again, as the captain presumably got ready with the whip that Dipper had briefly seen the demon carrying. He tried not to clench up, knowing that that would only make it worse, but it was hard. He was afraid. He didn't want to get punished.

Dipper was only able to let out one more shuddering breath, before he felt fire hit his back. He tried his hardest not to scream, not wanting to give the pirates the satisfaction, but he failed miserably. A strangled cry escaped him and he felt tears gather in his eyes as the fire spread through his system, so sharp and excruciating that he almost felt like he was going to die. He suddenly wondered how many of these he was going to have to deal with.

There was a few moments pause before the second lash fell, hitting him on his right shoulder blade, just as excruciating as the first. Dipper could distantly hear cheering, but it was muffled with the blood that was rushing through his ears. A few more moments passed, before another lash, and then another. Dipper could feel tears streaming down his face now, could distantly hear his own voice pleading with the captain to stop, God please stop, but it didn't matter. All he could feel perceive was the pain. And lord was it mighty.

In the end, Dipper suffered through seven lashes. Each one in a different part of his back. Each one stinging and painful as he shook against the mast. He barely felt himself get picked up and dragged back to his cell once the lashes had stopped, nor did he really notice the manacles being slipped back on. His back was fire, and nothing else mattered.

Hours passed in a haze of pain, his mind refusing to let him pass out and gain the sweet relief of oblivion. He couldn't think, couldn't move. He just laid there and prayed for death to take him, to make this torture stop. He had been wrong. He didn't want the captain's anger. This wasn't what he had wanted at all.

He didn't even know how much time had passed before he felt soft fingers touch his arm, causing him to let out a strangled mewl of pain, not enough strength left in him to fully cry out. It ordinarily would have disturbed him that he hadn't noticed the brig door opening, but now he couldn't. He couldn't really feel much of anything. He distantly heard someone shushing him, could feel those fingers trailing up his arm and into his hair, petting him soothingly. He could feel his body relaxing under the touch, a soft whimper emitting from his throat.

"Shh. You'll be alright. Just relax, Pine Tree. I've got you," he heard a familiar voice murmur into his ear, which made some instinctual part of him simultaneously want to relax, and tense up. It seemed even now, when he could barely perceive anything, he still felt conflicted about his feelings towards the pirate captain. Too bad he couldn't appreciate the humor with all the pain flooding his system.

He felt, then, as warmth touched his back, making him let out another strangled mewl of pain. Warm, wet fabric trailed down his back, and he felt his pain flare. The soothing voice was back in his ear, but he couldn't hear what it said. Tears began flooding down his face again as the pain attacked. The warm fingers left his hair then, which made him mewl in dissatisfaction. Part of him knew that the person above him was the same one who had been responsible for his pain in the first place, but it didn't stop him from wanting the comfort.

He then felt the fire on his back flare even brighter as alcohol was poured onto it, the stinging so intense Dipper was hoping that he'd simply pass out or die. But he didn't. He was forced to feel every moment of this torture, sobs shuddering through his body. The fingers were back in his hair, but he felt no comfort from them now. All he knew was pain.

When warm, sticky fingers began rubbing something onto his back, Dipper was almost positive he was going to die. Nothing could hurt as badly as he did right then and still be alive in the morning. But as time moved, slowly, he could feel the pain fading a bit. Not much, but enough so it no longer felt like a raging fire. After that, the fingers left his back and settled lightly on his left arm, right above where his original wound was located.

Time passed as Dipper continued to lie on the ground, the fingers in his hair remaining even after the man they belonged to had finished tending to his back. He didn't know quite when, but at some point his head had moved to rest on the man’s left thigh, turned sideways so he was facing the wall. It was right as he was starting to drift into sleep that the man moved, carefully setting his head down onto something soft, different than the hard floor he usually slept on.

"Sleep well, Pine Tree. I'll see you in the morning," the man murmured softly into his ear, before exiting the room. Dipper barely registered it, his mind finally succumbing to sleep as soon as the brig door closed.

It was such a shame that Dipper wouldn't remember this come morning. All he'd remember would be a haze of pain and agony, with only the faintest whisper of a soothing voice in his ear. And a blinding fear and hatred towards the one who had caused it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. Dipper doesn't remember anything that happened with Bill caring for him because he's too delirious with pain. I added that mostly for set-up for the next chapter. In case anyone was curious. Also, Dipper freaked out because he's starting to have... 'feelings' for Bill. I'll let you decide what type of feelings he has.


	10. An Interlude Into Madness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: Be warned that there is mention of past rape in this chapter. It is marked with a single asterisk (*) and if you do not like even the insinuation of rape, feel free to skip the paragraph. 
> 
> Anyway...
> 
> Surprise! An update, the day after the first update! 
> 
> Aha. So, it's Chanukah, and I decided to post a chapter as a present. Not much, but something. 
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is kind of superfluous. The only reason I have it is to show some insight into Bill. It is simply an interlude and will not effect the story overmuch, as Dipper is utterly unaware of any of this. 
> 
> But hey, at least you get to learn a bit more about Bill's past! As well as his thoughts about what is happening. Not everything, but more. Just saying, though; do not mistake his past as an excuse for his actions. He still has done horrible things. He just has reasons for why he is what he is. 
> 
> I hope you guys like this chapter. It is one of my favorites. Know that it does not take place directly after the last chapter, though. It takes place right after Dipper's punishment, before Bill came to help heal him. Just so you know.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! And Happy first day of Chanukah!

Bill Cipher entered his room, stalking over to his wardrobe and grabbing the bottle of whiskey he kept there. He then swung around and took a dramatic seat in his armchair and glared at the wall, taking a long swig from his bottle.

To say he was not pleased would be an understatement. A severe understatement. Furious, in fact, would probably be a better word. Or, perhaps, enraged. Spitting mad, raving, apoplectic, outraged. Whichever word, he felt it.

Now, he would admit, this was not an unusual emotion for him, nor was it always unwanted. Anger could be useful, when one was the captain of a pirate ship. Kept you alive and in charge. But this time he felt different. Perturbed, discombobulated. Thrown off kilter. And he supposed that that was due to the fact that there was another emotion filling him alongside his rage. Another emotion that was causing his cold and black heart to squeeze bitterly. An emotion so foreign that he didn't even know how he recognized it, or if he even truly did.

So it was not the rage that was causing him to sit on his chair, swirling his most potent bottle of whiskey in between his fingers, staring- brooding- at the wall. That was causing him to feel so wrong inside. So alien, so foreign. So insecure. Rage, rage he could deal with. Rage was familiar, it was a friend of his. It had kept him alive, when he had been alone and hungry as a child. It was the one constant he had. But this? This fear, this heart squeezing emotion that he felt? This… this… terror that was wrapping around his heart and devouring it whole?

He had felt fear before. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't. And while he was an intense liar, he tried to shy away from lying to himself. After all, who could he trust if not himself? So yeah, he'd felt afraid. When his mother had died when he was ten and he was suddenly left alone. When he had gotten cornered by that monster in that alley at age twelve and had taken his first life in his bid for freedom. When he had first faced up against a pirate shortly after that, all skin and bones from his life of poverty on the streets. Yeah, fear was another emotion he knew well, even if he'd deny ever experiencing it.

But this. This was different. This was foreign. This was causing him to want to scream, to cry, to make a total fool of himself. To, for the first time in his life, apologize to a living human being.

And it was all because of the boy with the heavens on his forehead.

Oh, how Bill hated that boy. Loathed him, despised him. Abhorred him. The very thought of the boy made him want to rush to the brig and skewer that child with his sharpest blade. And yet he didn't. Because of that thrice damned emotion he felt. That fear that twisted his gut and made him want to vomit.

Oh, how had this happened, he lamented as he leaned back over the armrest of his chair, glaring petulantly at the opposite wall. That boy. That child who had faced him, William 'Bill' Cipher, the Yellow Demon of the Seven Seas, with a firm and unafraid gleam in his umber eyes. The child who had crawled under his skin and had latched onto his dead and rotted heart. That child had caused this.

Why, oh _why_ , had he not killed him when he had the chance? Taken his dagger and jammed it into the boy's eye socket, seen the blood and brain matter and called it a day? Why had he hesitated, why had he waited? He never had done that before. He was efficient, he killed swiftly and mercilessly. Yes, he gloated, he toyed, but that was with the knowledge that he would eventually destroy the thing he was toying with, one way or another. He never hesitated. He never had second thoughts. He never looked into someone else's eyes and wondered why exactly he was killing them. Such thoughts were detrimental to a pirate captain.

And yet _that boy_. That child. He had looked into the boy's eye and had hesitated long enough for the bell to ring to inform the whole crew that they were finished pillaging and were ready to leave. He could have killed him then, taken his life right before leaving, but he hadn't. He hadn't, he had left, allowing the boy to go free. He didn't even know why, didn't know what he had seen that had shaken him enough to let the boy go. To let _Pine Tree_  go. He had never before left a raided ship without killing at least one person, it was an unspoken rule of his. And yet that time he had.

He had never thought he would have seen the child again. He had thought that the boy would feel relief at the fact his life was saved, that he would return to his life like normal, albeit with a healthy fear of the Insane Pirate Captain Bill Cipher. That he wouldn't have to ever examine the emotion that had stayed his hand. He hadn't thought that, not even minutes later, that the same boy he had spared, the same child who had looked so relieved to be alive, would jump onto his ship and fight off four of his men. That the boy would actually be able to defeat his men. He had seen the whole thing, watching curiously from the shadows. The boy was untrained, awkward with the blade he had grabbed, but he was quick. And he used it to his advantage. And, despite himself, he had felt impressed. The boy had gotten captured while shoving the girl off the ship, but he hadn't looked afraid. He had stared him in the eye and had looked so calm and cold that he couldn't find it in him to take that light away.

So he had let the boy live. He had put him in the brig, thinking that perhaps he would sell him to the highest bidder once they reached a slave trader. The boy was strong, he'd fetch a good price. He hadn't even thought of him after having him locked away in a cell. He had wiped his hands of the whole thing, content that he had resolved whatever it was that had stayed his hand. But then. _Then_. Then he had to be prowling his ship, his mind too anxious and full to sleep like it always was. He had to happen to be passing the brig and had to hear that boy screaming, _pleading_  for help.

*He should have kept walking. He should have let his men do as they pleased. It was what pirates did, after all. There were only so many times they could screw each other before the appeal ran out. While he, personally, didn't understand the rapture people spoke of, he knew that his men enjoyed the carnal pleasures taken from another. And he allowed them to do whatever they wanted. It kept them happy, which kept him in charge.

But the boy… his screams had caused something to clench inside him. Had caused him to remember a time that he had buried so far down in his mind that he never thought of it. Of another boy, terrified, afraid, faced with men far too large and far too strong. Of the day he had finally let go and given into the madness that lived inside his head. Of the moment that humanity had failed him so grievously that he had vowed to repay it in kind. And he found himself entering the brig and stopping his men before they could do that to another child, even though he had never particularly cared before. Life was cruel, people needed to learn that. But not him. Not Pine Tree. Not that way. He didn't know why, but he didn't want that for the child. Claiming the boy as his own would prevent any of his men from touching the child, and it fit since the child did belong to him. Pine Tree was his, his prisoner, his captive. His possession.

*While he had been down there, he had noticed that the boy was favoring his right arm and had seen blood covering his entire left sleeve. He could tell that it was a wound, he had seen it earlier when the boy had grappled with him on the ground. Had used it to his advantage in their fight. He hadn't particularly cared at the time, but looking down at the shivering and terrified child, he had felt pity rise inside him. Not much, but some. He had never felt pity before, but looking down into those too wide, too brown eyes had caused the emotion to bubble inside of him. And he had had the idea of healing the child, cleaning the wound and bandaging it for him.

He had rationalized it to himself, saying that it would help keep the boy alive. That the boy was no use to him dead. And while that was true, he also could not deny that the pity he had felt in that moment had played a large part in his decision. Not without lying to himself.

The boy had been terrified of him, he knew that much, could see it on his face when he had been dragged into his office. Pine Tree had kept his eyes closed tight like a young child, probably hoping that everything would simply disappear as long as he pretended that it wasn't there. Bill understood that. He had used to do the same when he was young, when his mother was gone for the night, in the bed of some stranger in the hope of feeding them the next day. When the night had been cold on his brittle bones and his stomach had ached from the vast emptiness inside of it.

It had amused him, though. Seeing the boy, the same one who had looked so bold and unafraid when standing up to him, cowering like the child he clearly still was? It had tickled him inside. Just as it had intrigued him. Because even while the boy cowered, there was still a gleam in his eyes. One that spoke of a silent bravery, a wordless strength that proved he would never back down from a challenge. Bill had seen it and it had piqued his curiosity.

He had stuffed it down, though. He couldn't afford to feel interested in his prisoner. In a few weeks’ time, he'd likely never even see the boy again, once he reached the slave traders. Any interest he felt would be pointless, in the end. So he had spoken to the boy with mock politeness before getting down to business.

Healing the wound had taken longer than he had wanted, but he felt the need to make sure the process was done properly. He hadn't meant to be gentle with the child, had meant to be forceful and uncaring. But then he had felt the boy shivering under his touch, fear and pain clear on his face, and had felt that pity again. He had gentled his hands, gentler than he had ever thought himself possible. And he had hated himself for it. For his weakness, for allowing the boy to see him act so weak. It had been with pleasure that he had eaten his food in front of the child, watching him grow steadily more desperate as the moments passed. But not desperate enough to beg. Bill had to admire him for it.

That was all it was supposed to be. Healing, fixing the boy's arm. Taunting the child, mocking him. Telling him stories of his horrid crimes, seeing that disgust and fear on the boy's face, feeling his sick glee at the sight. That was all it was ever meant to be. He wasn't supposed to want to see the child. He wasn't supposed to sit in his room, musing in his chair over the boy. He wasn't supposed to continue being gentle to him, to secretly revel in the warm skin he felt beneath his hands. He wasn't supposed to go down to see him while drunk and reveal himself even further. He wasn't supposed to, then, act kinder to the child and speak to him like he was a confidant. Like the boy was anything to him other than a prisoner. He wasn't supposed to do those things, wasn't supposed to want to do those things, but he had. He had.

He couldn't help it, though! The child intrigued him so much. He couldn't help but burn with curiosity about the boy with the stars on his head, about the boy who looked so strong, yet so fragile at the same time. It was an itch, a burn. He couldn't get the child out of his thoughts, couldn't forget his face. He had visited the child during a time his crew had celebrated their recent bounty, a time he usually spent alone in his cabin with his rum, because he couldn't contain his curiosity anymore. He had had to see him, had had to get at least one question answered. He had needed it.

Bill let out a groan and sat up, taking another sip of his whiskey. That boy. That stupid, foolish _child_. He had treated that boy well, had given him more liberties than any other prisoner had ever gotten from him. He usually was so cold and cruel to his prisoners, he usually left them to the tender care of his crew. But he had been different around this boy. He had actually treated him well, for whatever reason he had made up to justify it in his mind.

And the boy had tried to escape.

And that was the kicker, wasn't it? That was what was causing this stupid emotion in his long rotted heart. That was what made him want to rage, and cry, and scream. He had tried with that boy and the boy had betrayed him. _Betrayed_  him. Bill could feel his face screw up in sick pain, his dead heart clenching.

 _Oh, Billy boy, when oh when did you start placing your trust in a child? In a prisoner? When did you forget who you were and think that, perhaps, you could speak with the boy and that he would actually enjoy those talks? That he would actually want to spend time with you? When did you start deluding yourself so much that you thought that, maybe, you could have something good? When did you ever start believing that you might actually_ deserve _something good?_

He let out a bitter laugh at his thoughts, the voice one he hadn't heard in a little while, there. He had almost started to wonder when he'd hear his mother's voice again, hear her vitriol echoing in his mind. Belittling him in death as she had done so well during his life. She may have kept him as a child, but she had never cared for him. Never.

But she was right. She always was. When had he deluded himself so much that he found himself trusting the child? So much so that his escape attempt had caused a hole to form in his gut? A trench so wide that he could feel the bitter nothingness inside of him? Betrayal could only be felt if one trusted. And Bill _never_  trusted. He couldn't, couldn't afford it. It only hurt. And yet he had. And now he hurt.

He could still hear the boy's screams in his mind. Could still see his back, shivering and heaving as blood flowed down it. He usually loved dealing out punishments, loved feeling his whip crack against a person's back. Loved it as he loved nothing else, loved the feeling it caused inside of him. But not now. Not now. The child, the boy, _Pine Tree_  had been the recipient and he didn't love it now. He should. The boy had _betrayed him._  had mocked his kindness and his leniency. He should have reveled in the boy's pain. So why on Earth _didn't he?!_

He let out a shaky breath as he took another sip of his whiskey. It wasn't helping, but he needed to do something with his hands, his mouth.

He was a demon. The Yellow Demon of the Seven Seas, to be exact. He had been sailing since he was twelve, since he had stowed away on a ship to run from his own morality. Since he had been captured by pirates and had suffered a fate worse than death. Since he had taken up his position as a slave aboard that same ship, since he had found his way to freedom and had killed the lot of them with no remorse. Since he had joined a crew of his own and had become everything he had ever despised. It was what he was. It was _all_  he was. Evil, wicked, deprived. Insane, truly and utterly mad. He didn't feel for people. He didn't want to apologize, he didn't want to make it up to a boy at least ten years younger than he, himself, was. He didn't. _He didn't_. He didn't even know the child's name, he had only known him for a week. He couldn't be changing, he couldn't be anything other than a monster. It was what he _was_ , goddammit! He was a pirate, a monster, a demon! He was… he was…

Bill grit his teeth and felt his chest heave, bottle of whiskey tumbling from his hands as he gripped his desk and faced down, eye closed tight. He was good for nothing. He was pathetic. He was a tumor that should have been destroyed before he had ever been born. He was a curse. He was… nothing. He was nothing and would always be nothing. He had created himself a name here on these seven seas, but he still was nothing inside. A rotting, deformed husk of a man that had died eons ago. His mother had always told him that, hadn't she? Had always reminded him of what he was, had always looked at him with hatred and anger. He had taken everything from her, she always said. How could he ever pretend to be human when inside he was utter garbage?

So Pine Tree didn't matter. Pine Tree would hate him now, anyway, if he hadn't before. Everyone hated him, or feared him. And he loved that. He _loved_  it. He had to. Because if he didn't, if he didn't, what could he do? What else could he ever possibly be other than a pirate, earth's scum? He couldn't apologize because pirates didn't do that. He didn't do that. It had been his right to strike the child. The boy had attempted to escape, had tried to run. Bill had been well within his right as captain to punish him as he saw fit. It didn't matter that seeing the boy's smooth and silky back marred by red, angry welts had caused something inside of him to rebel. It didn't matter. God, it didn't matter.

But it did. It did. _It did_. And Bill hated that it did. That he could still hear the screams and they haunted him. That red blood, usually so welcome to his eyes, had caused his mind to nearly stop.

God, he had to see the kid. He had to. The child had looked almost dead when he had sent him back to his cell. Eyes were dim and body was limp. Had probably never been hurt so badly before, was probably in shock. Probably in excruciating pain. Probably was afraid.

He didn't want to see the child. He wanted to see the child. He didn't know what he wanted. He was a demon. A monster. Had pretended that he was human once and it had crumbled before his eyes, back when he had eyes. Had once wanted to do good in life, had once wanted to help people, but now was their scourge. If he touched that boy, he would break. He would suck the life from that child faster than he had sucked it from his mother. He already had. The child would never be the same after this, even if he did manage to escape. He'd always be scarred.

But he would die, if his wounds were left unattended. Bill was good at what he did, was good at dealing out pain. He had put his full strength behind his hits and had reveled in it. Had let his anger flow and had broken his Pine Tree. He- he needed to fix him. Needed to at least try. The child was _his_ , he couldn't let him waste away beneath his feet. He had to see the boy.

Bill took a deep breath and released his grip of his desk and stood up. He forced an expressionless mask onto his face and stalked over to his chest of medical supplies. He dug through it and got out every clean cloth he had, every drop of disinfecting alcohol he kept stored away. He grabbed the necessary herbs and medicine and stuffed all of it into a bag. He could feel nothing inside as he worked, his mind blank as he moved.

It had been a while since he had last been introspective, he thought bitterly. Last time had to have been at least a year before, probably when he had murdered that baby even after the mother had begged for mercy. That had stuck with him for days, haunting his dreams. It wasn't so much the act that had haunted him, but the woman's face. Her desolate eyes as he tossed the lifeless body back to her, the death he saw inside her. The person who lived but was now devoid of life. It had caused him to torture himself with thoughts and self-hatred. The feelings had went away with time, he had gotten over his distaste of the memory, but it had caused a major upheaval of self at the time. Like this was. He was sure that in a few days’ time he'd be over this, like he always was, but for now it hurt him. And for now, he'd allow himself to repent and show mercy. But only tonight, he vowed. Only tonight would he show the boy mercy.

Only tonight.


	11. Madness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Hope you had a good week. I did! My brother drove me up to LA yesterday and we watched the last live taping of the show The Soup. It was great, especially since I've been watching the show since I was 10 and it was cool to watch it live, even if it's getting cancelled after next week. Anyway, that's why I'm a bit late in posting; I'm very tired from the two hour drive last night. 
> 
> So! The chapter! I have no idea what you all will think of it. On one hand, things get furthered. On the other hand, it's not the good kind of furthered, just yet. Do not worry, though! Things get much better next chapter, trust me. Well... depending on what your definition of 'better' is, but it's not as bleak as this chapter. 
> 
> Also; this chapter is different than any other. It's set partially in flashback, since that was the only way I could get this chapter written. Anything in parentheses have already happened, Dipper is just remembering them. Kind of awkward, but better than repeating everything we went through the past several chapters, with Dipper's mistrust. 
> 
> And that's all. Thanks for all of your reviews and comments. They mean the world to me. :-)
> 
> Enjoy!

Dipper sat in his cell and shuddered, his mind racing and his heart on fire. He felt like he couldn't breathe and he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to again. His back hurt, his mind hurt, but most of all, his heart hurt.

And it was all that demon's fault. That horrible, terrible, _demon_.

Dipper gritted his teeth and leaned his head back against the wall of his cell and tried his hardest to forget about everything. He didn't want to remember. He was angry. He was furious. He was confused and scared.

Oh, that demon. That monster. Dipper… Dipper hated him. With all his heart, he knew he hated him. He had to hate him, after what he had done to him. He glared at the wall, his body shivering uncontrollably, as thoughts of what had happened, how this had happened, bombarded him. He didn't want to, but it invaded his mind like a plague, like a poison fog.

It had been five days since _that day_. Since he had attempted his escape, since he had last seen the sky and felt the cool ocean breeze on his face. Since he had had the illusion of freedom. Since his back had been whipped, beaten until bloody and painful.

Most of those days had been taken up by healing. The pain he had felt upon waking up that first morning still made him shudder whenever he thought of it. It had been fire on his back, torturous in its intensity. He still didn't know what exactly had happened that night, the memories hazy with pain, but he remembered getting seven lashes on his back, strong and painful. At first, when he had initially woken, he had thought he could remember gentle fingers in his hair, calm and soothing, healing. Now, though, he was pretty sure that that was just something he had imagined. His mother had used to do that when he was a young child and sick, so it wasn't unlikely that his mind had imagined it to help him through his pain. Besides, who exactly could have done it? Bill? He may act gentle, but even he was incapable of that level of care. Especially after his cruelty. Dipper was sure of it.

Once his mind had properly waken, sharp as it possibly could be given the situation, he had found himself barely able to move. He had been trapped, forced to stay lying on his stomach as his back burned. It had been misery, torture. He had hated it, hated how trapped he had felt. He had spent hours upon hours lying on the ground, his only company the shadows he could see from his position.

He had gotten fed that afternoon, though, which had proved a bit of a distraction. He honestly hadn't been sure if he would still have that 'privilege'. A new pirate, big and bulging, was in charge of bringing him his food now. Dipper had noticed that the pirate didn't bring the keys into the cell with him when he had had to enter it to bring Dipper's food directly to him. Smart, he had thought, even if it was detrimental to him. It was probably on the captain's orders, that they couldn't allow him anywhere near the keys. It made sense.

Once the pirate had left, Dipper had been alone again and had nearly gone mad with inactivity. Time moved weirdly with the pain he felt. He wasn't sure if it had been slower than usual, or if he had just been perceiving things wrong, but it had been mind-numbing. He may have passed out once or twice, he wasn't quite sure, but it had been agony to sit through.

But that night. Oh, that night. He had been so tired, in so much pain. He couldn't move, couldn't do anything. His mind was so numb he couldn't have thought even if he had wanted. When the door to the brig had opened, he had almost felt relieved. Something, _anything_. But then he had heard that too familiar voice. And he had felt afraid...

( _Dipper was lying on the ground, trying to control his breathing. He could hear the demon walking around the cell, had heard his voice let out a chipper, though oddly subdued, 'Hello Pine Tree.' He could see his shadow move across the wooden floor, could feel the dull thuds of his footsteps._

_"Why are you here?" He heard himself ask, afraid. The demon let out a soft, mirthless laugh in response._

_"It's my ship. Why shouldn't I be here?"_

_Dipper shuddered at the imitation of words, cruelly reminding of the night he had almost believed this monster to be human._ )

Dipper hadn't liked the captain, then. He had feared him. Hated him. His actions the night before had reminded him cruelly of what he was, and of what Dipper had almost believed. His back had burned from those lashes, his mind had stung from how wrong he was. There was no good in Bill, he had seen that.

As he had laid, helpless on the ground, he hadn't known what to do. He couldn't run, couldn't escape. The demon had every advantage and Dipper knew it, and hated it.

( _"Go away. I don't want you here," Dipper whispered, his breathing heavy as he stared at the captain's boots. He could hear a dark chuckle._

_"Who are you to command me, Pine Tree?" The demon asked, shifting his feet. Dipper gritted his teeth and tried to look up, his back protesting immediately, causing a soft mewl of pain to escape his lips. The pirate shifted again, anxiously._

_"I don't want you here. You're a monster."_

_Another chuckle, darker than before._

_"Yeah, I am. But you're mine, kid, so what are you going to do about it?"_

_Nothing. He could do nothing about it, and the captain knew it. Dipper shivered as that thought settled in._ )

The demon had sounded so smug, so much like he was gloating. Dipper had felt his teeth clench, rage and anger in his mind, but he could do nothing. He could only lie there as the demon stared down at him. Admiring his handy work, he had assumed.

But then he had moved. And Dipper hadn't been able to breathe.

( _The movement was sudden. One second all he saw was boots and legs, and the next he could see the demon in all his glory, eye sharp, mouth frowning lightly. Dipper had felt his eyes widen as he tried to back away. He was unable._

_"Relax, kid. I'm not going to hurt you."_

_Yes he was. He already had._ )

And then… that demon had reached out, had tried to touch him.

Dipper hadn't been able to flinch fast enough.

( _"_ _Don't touch me. Don't you dare touch me," he whispered, glaring at the hand inches from his back. He could see the demon's face freeze, eye burning as it stared at him._

_"Why shouldn't I?" The demon whispered back, his face so intent. Dipper shivered._

_"You don't have the right."_ )

But the demon had been insistent. Had ignored his demand, had tsked and continued on. He had grabbed his arm, pushed him down so he was lying completely flat. Dipper had struggled as best he could, but it hadn't been enough. Bill had been too strong.

And while the demon hadn't attacked him, hadn't done as he had feared; had actually done what Dipper hadn't thought he would and had given him medicine, it still hurt. And Dipper had still been afraid.

( _"Stop!" He screamed, his back on fire. He couldn't breathe, couldn't see. The medicine burned him. No hands were in his hair- it had been a dream, of course there weren't hands in his hair- and there was no comfort. Just the demon and his now ruthless healing._

_"You'll die if I don't, kid. Someone's got to do it."_

_Maybe death would be better than this torture, he thought as tears escaped his eyes._ )

And then Bill was gone. No parting words, no mockery. Just applied the medicine, bandaged his back, and left.

Dipper hadn't known what to think as he laid there, after Bill had gone. Hadn't known what it meant, why he did it. Bill was likely right, he'd die without medical attention. But why him? Why would he have tried to heal him, so soon after harming him? It had confused Dipper, like the man was wont to do.

Several days passed after that. Dipper slept a lot, his body using most of its energy healing his wounds. When he wasn't asleep he was glaring at the walls, feeling that itch in his mind, the itch for freedom.

And everyday Bill would be there. Dipper had begrudgingly felt his anger and fear cool off as the time passed, as his wounds healed and his mind grew more and more bored. After the third day Dipper had been able to sit up as long as he didn't lean against anything and he would stare at the demon as he moved through his cell, wondering even though he didn't want to. Wondering why the captain did what he did. He contradicted himself and Dipper hated it more than he hated anything.

He could still feel his fear and anger simmering under the surface, though. Whenever he saw the man, whenever the demon touched him. It flared and waned at random, sometimes an inferno, sometimes no more than kindling.

It didn't help that the captain grew gentle again. Dipper hated it when he was gentle. It confused his mind, made him think charitably of the man, his only real source of human contact. And he cringed as he thought of the things he had started to feel, started to believe. Hated them like he hated everything else about the stupid pirate captain.

( _His hands were warm, he thought absently as he stared at the wall. They were gentle again, no longer ruthless and rough like they had been the first time he had applied medicine to his back. Perhaps Bill's anger had cooled._

_He was muttering things to him. Soft things, words of no substance. Dipper didn't even know what the man was saying, but he felt soothed. He let out a soft moan as the pirate ran a hand over a particularly sensitive spot on his back, causing the man to pause._

_"You alright, Pine Tree?" A soft voice whispered warmly in his ear. He shivered._

_"Yeah," he breathed back.)_

But all that pain and confusion had never truly went away. Bill confused him more then than he ever had. And it had driven Dipper mad.

And as everything does, it had to blow up eventually.

Dipper groaned and hit his head back against the wall. He picked at the shirt he was wearing again, which settled unpleasantly over his healing scabs, but was better than the nothing he had been wearing. He had almost forgotten just how cold it got down here. He could feel his anger and troubled thoughts mount, though, as he thought of how he had acquired this shirt again, thought of what that demon had done to him earlier that day.

The day had started off like normal. Or, as normal as his life was now, at least. He had woken in his cell, the new make-shift pillow he had found in his cell the morning after the beating beneath his head, before sitting up. At first, it had been a great relief to be able to do so, allowing him a marginal amount of freedom even if he hadn't really been able to stand yet, but at that moment he had starting to grow restless again. And agitated.

A prisoner. He was still a prisoner. He hadn't succeeded his attempt for freedom, and he was still, always, trapped. For the first time since his escape he had thought of what exactly he had failed at, and it left him upset.

He missed his sister. Terribly. She was his best friend, the only thing he had left of his old life. She was everything to him, and he missed her with an intense ache. As he had sat and stared at the wall, his heart aching, he had felt resentment fill inside him. Thick and potent it invaded his mind and he could barely see from his grief and upset.

He knew, then, as he had always known, always feared, that he would never leave this ship. Not, at least, with his freedom. He had tried and look what it brought him. And it hurt to think. To believe. That he would always be a prisoner, would always be trapped. Would always belong to that monster. Would never be free. It festered in his mind and nothing he did could make it cease.

And Bill. _Bill_. Always, always Bill. He was always there, always lurking behind the dark corners in his mind. Like an illness. Like a plague. Like the damn darkness he was, like a sickness he couldn't get over. He had trapped him, had taken control of him, had beaten him and left him. And then he healed him, spoke softly to him, acted like he cared. Like Dipper mattered. Why?! Why did he keep doing that?! His thoughts had mounted and his anger had raged, and when he had seen Bill that night, when Bill wouldn't stop _looking_ , he had exploded and Bill had reacted, and…

And so perhaps that was his fault, he conceded silently as he stared blankly ahead, his anger waning a little as he thought. Perhaps it was him who had fanned the flame, who had caused the conflict, leading to what the man had done. But nothing could excuse what had happened, and he would never be able to forget it.

( _The captain was staring at him. Always, always staring. Dipper could feel it, could feel the spotlight on him and he felt wrong inside. He hated it._

_This man had hurt him. Had taken him prisoner, had trapped him, and had hurt him. He acted like he was better, like he perhaps cared, with the way he acted, the way he spoke, but he didn't. He didn't care. About him, about anything. His eye was always so large and curious and full of darkness and Dipper hated it. Hated it._

_Bill moved closer to him and he jerked back. Couldn't let him touch him, not this time, never again. His back was better now, it was healing. Bill didn't need to put more herbs on it now, he didn't._

_"You back to being a skittish colt, sapling?" The captain asked, head cocked as he stared. Dipper bared his teeth._

_"You don't need to help me anymore," he gritted, "I'm fine now. You can go."_

_He didn't want him to touch him, not again, not after those too charitable thoughts he had been having. His hands were too warm, too gentle. He couldn't touch him, not again. Not again. Monsters had no right being so warm and gentle, not after being so hard and cruel. No right._

_A dark, high-pitched laugh. Dipper hated that laugh._

_"You still think you can order me around, Pine Tree?" The demon questioned softly, a wry grin on his face. "You forget that you are mine. And that you have no say on what I do."_

_He wasn't his. Wasn't. Dipper was his own, had always been his own. Bill had no claim on him and he knew this. Bill always said he was his, but he wasn't. He wasn't._

_"No. No," he whispered. "You don't… you don't own me, you have no claim on me."_

_"Don't I?" The captain mused, before kneeling. Dipper felt a hand ghost down the side of his face, felt himself shudder with disgust and something that wasn't disgust and he hated it. Hated it._

_"N-no," he breathed, turning his face away, looking down. He couldn't breathe, with the captain so close. He hated him. Despised him. Why was he sitting so close? Dipper didn't want him to be so close. Didn't._

_"You're wrong, Pine Tree. I own you, like I own everything on this ship. You are mine, all mine. And if I want to touch you," a hand grasped his cheeks, turning his face so he could see the captain's, a gasp sounding from him, "I will.")_

Dipper buried his head in his knees, tears in his eyes. He didn't want to remember what happened next. He wanted to forget, to go back to how everything had been before.

But he still remembered. And he would always remember.

_(No. Dipper stared into that golden eye, open and dark and sincere, and he refused to let him win. With a snarl, he slapped the hand away and pushed the captain away from him with all his might. He couldn't stand him being so close. Too close._

_"No!" He screamed, feeling frantic as he looked at the now sprawled man in front of him, shaking with emotion. He could see anger and indignation filling into the demon's eye, but he didn't care._ He didn't care. _The demon had hurt him, thought him as little more than property. He was a human, a human being. Bill had no claim to him. None. He wasn't going to forget that. Wasn't going to… to allow himself to fall into the demon's insanity. He wasn't._

_"No?" The demon snarled, still sprawled, his chest heaving. Dipper shook his head frantically._

_"No. You. Do not. Own me. Do you understand?" He hissed, his own chest heaving. "You will not touch me, you will not even look at me if I don't want it. You are a monster, the vilest demon I have ever had the displeasure to meet, and I won't let you trick me. Not anymore. I refuse."_

_That dark chuckle. He watched, warily, as the demon threw his head back, his chuckles evolving into full on laughter, as mad as the man who was emitting them. Moments passed, the only sound that insane laughter, before the demon looked back up with a dangerous and sharp grin on his face. Dipper shuddered despite himself._

_"Has the boy finally become a man?" The demon mused, shifting, sitting up, eye trained on him. "Has he finally grown a pair and decided to stick it to the big, bad monster? Gotta hand it to you, kid. I'm impressed. You're brave, I'll give you that. Brave, but dumb."_

_He was so calm. Too calm. Dipper bared his teeth as the demon stood, as he came closer. A beat passed, Bill simply staring down at him. Dipper refused to show fear, glared calmly back, jaw clenched._

_Then. He felt the pain in his back flare, felt arms wrap around his shoulders and yank up, felt himself get pressed against the wall, felt his healing back scream in agony. A face was right next to his, a leg between his, a chest pressed against his bare one, so close Dipper didn't know where he ended and the demon began. Closer than he ever wanted, closer than he could deal with. His heart was pounding, his back was throbbing, and he was so, so afraid. And another emotion he didn't want to think about._

_"Your bravery won't save you, though," the demon whispered in his ear, a sinister undertone in the words. "I_ own  _you, Pine Tree. You deny it, you turn away, but you have been mine from the moment you set foot on this ship, saving that sister of yours. Accept that, little sapling, and perhaps things will go easier for you here on out."_

_"N-no. Never," he hissed back, his legs weak from pain, his mind blank from proximity. Bill just chuckled again, pressing, impossibly, closer. So close. He could feel the other man's heart beat, could taste the salty sweat on his skin. Lips trailed against his cheek up to his ear, making Dipper's eyes flutter shut despite himself._

_"And here I was, thinking you were intelligent. What a pity."_

_Hands were touching him, small movements on his skin and he wanted to cry. Wanted to lean in. He felt so wrong standing here, held up by a demon of a man, his stomach rolling. He felt a forehead touch his, causing his eyes to open minutely, even as he wanted to keep them closed to ignore the man who was so close, dangerously close._

_"You are mine. Do you understand that, Pine Tree? Mine," the man breathed, so softly, barely a hint of sound. "And I will do whatever I want with you.")_

Dipper let out a soft sob, not wanting to remember. He hated that demon. Hated him so much. So, so, _so_  much. For what he did to him. For how wrong he made him feel. For everything.

_(A moment of time passed, and Dipper felt afraid. Those words, the undertone. It almost made him believe the man, the demon, both. Like he wasn't his own anymore, like he truly did belong to this insane monster. He wanted to shake his head, to deny, to rebel, but before he could, he felt chapped lips press against his own. And then no thought remained._

_It wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't the coming together of two souls, so much in love they needed to find some way of expressing it. It wasn't like those fairytales he had heard, it wasn't true love's first kiss. It was hard. And painful. And wrong. And he hated how much he enjoyed it._

_Bill was insistent against him, pressing against him until he was nothing, his lips like a force of nature, taking all and giving none. He felt sharp teeth bite his lip almost savagely and he gasped as the coppery tang of blood filled his mouth, alongside a wet and warm tongue. It moved against his own, taking, taking, always taking. He wasn't his own, in that moment. In that moment he was Bill's, solely, truly Bill's. And he let out a soft, high pitched mewl as he stood, frozen, allowing the man to take. He didn't move against him, didn't respond. He just stood, leaned against the wall, and gave in._

_When the man was done, when he was satisfied his point was made, he pulled back, red blood smeared over his mouth. Dipper could only stare at it, shivering in the man's false embrace, odium and shock spreading through his veins. Red blood. His blood. His lips hurt and his heart hurt and he could taste blood in his mouth._

_He could feel the demon shuddering against him, heaving breaths in, before a wide, false grin spread across his face. Dipper abhorred that grin with every fiber of his being. His teeth were sharp, yellowed from prolonged alcohol abuse and reddened from blood. He was like a wolf, Dipper thought. A wolf, a demon, a monster, a beast. Taking what he wanted, no thought of consequences, no care for others. No care for him, for what he felt, for how he made him feel._

_"So don't forget that," Bill finished, voice only the slightest bit tremulous. He was released then and he felt himself crumble to the ground, not even minding the pain in his back. It was better than the pain in his heart, in his mind. Better than facing reality._

_He saw something get thrown onto the ground in front of him a moment later and he raised his head to look at it. He didn't want to but he needed to focus on something. Anything._

_He felt the slightest hint of amusement as he saw his old shirt, the one his sister had gotten for him, the one with that blue pine tree on it. It seemed like ages ago that he had been on shore with her, laughing and having fun. So much had changed. He had changed. That demon had changed him, goddamn him._

_The demon said nothing as he turned and walked away, closing the cell with nary a backwards glance. Dipper didn't care. He didn't care what that monster did, he didn't. Didn't._ Didn't _  
_

_He grabbed his shirt and pulled it on, hating how exposed he felt, how his nerves felt like they were on fire. He shivered and tried to forget._

_And he hated. Oh, did he hate.)_

And now he sobbed. Anger was there, but so was grief. Not for his sister, not for his great uncle, but, for the first time, for himself. For what had become of him, for what Bill had done to him. For what he had done to himself, with his thoughts and his speculations and his stupid, _stupid_  curiosity.

He hadn't thought this would happen. Didn't know a man could feel this way for another man. Not love, love was nondiscriminatory, love he could, sort of, possibly understand. But he didn't love Bill. He knew he didn't, knew that what he felt was not that magical feeling his parents had always spoke of, his sister always spoke of. It didn't make him feel like he was floating, it didn't make him feel giddy, it didn't make him act like a fool. No, instead he just felt _wrong_. Like he was wrong, like he was dirty. Like he had been infected by a disease.

He wanted Bill. He wanted his touch, his hands, gentle and warm. He wanted to feel them on his skin, and it was wrong, and he hated it, but he didn't know what to do. He realized now that he had felt this for a while, since that day in the brig, with the man so close and so human and so… Bill. Maybe even before. He had ignored it, had pushed it aside, but it had always been there, lurking in the back of his mind. Maybe it was why he had run, why he had wanted so badly to escape. To be free, free from that stare, that touch, that feeling. It was wrong, he was wrong. He was disgusting.

He choked on his sobs at the thought, gripping his knees tighter, hating himself nearly as much as he hated Bill. That demon may have caused this, but Dipper had fallen for it. Hadn't stopped it, hadn't nipped it in the bud. He let himself fall in… in lust with a manic, insane demon, and now he couldn't forget the feeling of warm lips against his own, of those hands gripping his hips, his sides, gentle where his lips were cruel. Couldn't forget, could never forget, would always, always remember. How sick he was. How wrong he was. How perverted he was, to ever think that way about a pirate. About a man.

The tears did not cease that night. He cried until he eventually passed out, his back aching, but his heart aching worse.

And Dipper knew as he slipped away that he had descended into Bill's special form of madness. That he would never be safe again.


	12. What's So Amazing That Keeps Us Stargazing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! For no reason in particular, I'm posting a day early. Merry early Christmas? 
> 
> Aha. So I hope you all like this chapter. Fun fact: this chapter was originally planned to take place after the eighth chapter, before I got sidetracked with the escape plot. Also, the ending wasn't meant to happen, it just sort of... did. But it all worked out in the end. After a bunch of editing, at least.
> 
> In case anyone was curious, the title of this chapter comes from the song Rainbow Connections, from the Muppets. The line was actually what inspired this chapter, so if you like it, you have the song to thank. If you hate it, blame the song. 
> 
> And... that's it. Thanks for all the comments, kudos, favorites, etcetera! I've reached 350 kudos on AO3. That's... amazing. Really, thank you all. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Dipper stared, chest heaving, at the man who was sitting, quietly, across from him. He could feel that wrongness inside of him, could feel that feeling he still didn't want to think about and he hated it. The man himself looked calm and collected, like he had every right to be there. He probably thought he did.

Dipper didn't want to see him. Didn't want to be around him. The memory of what happened was still fresh in his mind, and he didn't want any more reminders.

It had been two days since their fight and subsequent 'kiss', if one wanted to call it that. He had now been on this ship for two weeks. Dipper hadn't seen hide nor hair of the pirate in those two days, which he had been beyond relieved about. He was too raw to face the truth he now knew.

When he had woken, that morning after, the first thing he had done was cry. Heavy sobs that wracked his body and didn't stop for at least an hour, and only then because he had run out of tears to shed. He could feel disgust at himself, self-loathing rich in his mind. He still felt so dirty and wrong and sick. Infected. He hadn't even been able to think about Bill, nausea rising in him every time he did. As time passed, he was able to calm himself somewhat, allowing him to not freak out at the thought of the man.

He was still upset, though. Extremely. He didn't cry, didn’t sob, but he could feel his tumultuous emotions warring in him. He had had many thoughts run through his mind, once he had calmed, tormenting himself, as he always did. Thoughts of Bill, the way he looked, the way he acted. Thoughts of that day, thoughts of that dominating mockery of a kiss. Thoughts of just how screwed he was and what his sister would think if she could see him now. If she'd hate him as much as he hated himself. He liked to think she would. Liked to think that she'd be disgusted at the very sight of him. It made him feel better, in a twisted way.

The worst thing about this whole thing was that he couldn't really even blame it solely on Bill. Yes, the man had tricked him, had played him like a fiddle, but Dipper should have known better than to fall for the man's tricks. He should have known, should have seen, should have prevented it. Shouldn't have gotten so close, shouldn't have felt so curious. Should have spent his time plotting his escape instead of getting wrapped up in the mystery that was Bill Cipher. But he hadn't and now he was stuck with a begrudging attraction to a man whose idea of fun was murdering children. He was sick.

The only relief he had gotten was from the fact that Bill had stayed away from him. The man hadn't come down to rub medicine on his back, hadn't come down for a chat. The only person Dipper had seen in two days was the bulging pirate who brought him his food, and he had felt relieved. Seeing Bill, so soon after what had happened, would have been torture. He hadn't even wanted to imagine what the man would have said, would have done. If he would be smug.

But his luck, it seemed, had run out.

It was late, he knew that. He could feel that the ship wasn't moving, clearly anchored for the night. He had been about ready to settle down, to sleep and have his usual nightmares, when he had heard the brig door open silently, light flooding into the dark prison. When Dipper's eyes had adjusted, he had seen the man he least wanted to see, standing tall and proud in the doorway, looking down at him imperiously.

When the man had barged into his cell, opening it and inviting himself in, Dipper had panicked. Had started yelling, demanding that the pirate leave, to go to Davy Jones' locker, to do anything other than be there with him. He might have been a bit hysterical, but he supposed he had earned that. He was under great emotional distress, and the cause of it was standing in front of him, calm and collected. Like he wasn't effected like Dipper was. Like what had happened didn't even matter to him.

Bill had simply taken it, had stood there calmly, looking at him intently with his one eye. Hadn't said a word, just let Dipper rant and rave, until the boy had run out of words. Then he had stood there for a moment longer, before taking a seat, sitting cross-legged in front of him, and hadn't moved since.

That was many minutes ago, with the only sound between them the sound of Dipper's ragged breaths and the ship settling around them. The boy felt uneasy that Bill wasn't saying anything, that he was just staring at him. His eye... It was so intense, sometimes. It scared him, as well as other things he refused to think about. It did things to him and he wanted it to stop, wanted the man to say why he was here and go. But he didn't. He just sat. And stared. Dipper would be damned, though, if he was the one to break the silence first, so it seemed they were at a stalemate. A terrible stalemate. Wonderful.

Finally, after Dipper was about ready to crack, Bill shifted. He turned to face the wall, a frown slowly forming on his face. He had no idea what the captain was doing, but he seemed to be thinking intensely about something. A moment passed, before Bill nodded, a quick and curt jerk of the head, like he was confirming something with himself. Then, a large grin bloomed on the man's face and he turned back to face Dipper, eye looking pleased. He didn't like it, didn't trust it one bit.

"So, if your little diatribe was any indication, I'd say that you don't like me much right about now." The man stated casually, unfolding his left leg so he could comfortably lean forward. Dipper frowned, feeling confused and off-put. Yeah, that was a bit of an understatement.

"Uh, yeah. Never did like you all that much." He confirmed slowly, nervously, when Bill looked at him like he was waiting for an actual response. Like the answer hadn't been a given. Dipper felt like squirming, his heart beating faster than he liked under Bill's attention. He watched as the captain nodded slowly at his comment, like he had expected it.

"Okay." The man said, before leaning back and looking at the ceiling, a wide grin stretching on his face. Well, suppose that was the right answer, then, he thought with a scowl. Dipper wanted to look away, wanted to turn from the man in front of him, but he found he just couldn't. The way Bill was sitting… he looked so relaxed and Dipper couldn't tear his eyes away. He hated that he couldn't.

Several moments passed in that maddening silence before Bill chuckled softly and looked up at him, eye hooded and grin lazy.

"I'm also willing to bet that you're feeling pretty bored. You seem to be the kind. Nothing to do, no one to talk to. You're probably climbing the walls."

Dipper frowned again, finally turning away from the man, not liking what that casual grin was doing to him. He shrugged in response, not wanting to dignify the question with a verbal answer. After all, the captain got it pretty accurate.

"But which are you more adverse to? Me, or that boredom?" The man mused after a beat had passed, his voice highly amused. Dipper scowled, still faced away.

"I've got a deal for you, Pine Tree." The man said suddenly, glee thick in his words. "My ship is anchored for the night, my men are either sleeping or drunk off their arses, and the ones who are awake are loyal to me, respect my decisions, all that. So, if you want it, I can get you out of here for the night. You'll still be chained, can't exactly trust you after all, but I can take you to the upper deck. You did say that you liked the stars, did you not?"

Dipper blinked. Then blinked again, trying to process the words.

A deal? To see the outside, to stargaze? But why? What was the man playing at? It all sounded too good to be true. After all, Dipper noticed that while the captain had stated what he would receive, he hadn't stated what he wanted from Dipper. What Dipper would have to give up in return for such a wonderful gift. Deals went two way, after all.

Too curious to keep his eyes adverted, he turned back to the captain, his stomach lurching at the casual, lazy grin he was met with. It was so different to his usual, manic, sharp grin. This one made him look so human, so normal. Dipper wasn't sure if he hated it or not. He shook his head to get the inappropriate thoughts out, focussing on the deal, focussing on his answer.

He didn't trust the captain. He didn't. He never had, never would. And with how the man made him feel inside, he couldn't trust _himself_  around Bill. But… but it sounded so sweet. Seeing the outside, feeling the cool breeze against his face. It had been a week since he had last been outside and Bill was right, he was getting restless. His back still ached, but it was less intense now, so he thought that he might be able to walk if he tried. He could do it, could take the captain up on his deal and have the brief illusion of freedom. The only problem…

"I don't trust you." He claimed, looking the captain straight in the eye, seeing the mirth that lived there.

"Wise of you." The captain allowed, inclining his head slightly in agreement. "However, this is your only chance to be out of this prison. I'm not going to have this deal around for much longer, Pine Tree. One time only. So make your choice; your hatred of me, or your desire to feel the salt air and see the night sky?"

The captain leaned forward then, his face mere inches from his own. He could feel the warm breath fanning across his face, oddly sweet for once, not rancid and rotten. Like the captain had just finished eating sweets. Dipper tried not to feel the fluttering in his stomach at the proximity, and forced himself to frown.

"And just what do you get from this? What do you want from me?" He demanded. The captain let out a soft chuckle at his words.

"I want nothing from you, kid. Just the chance to see you under my control, that's all."

Dipper almost declined right then, on principle. The way the captain looked so smug and amused rankled him, made him scowl bitterly. But… he wanted to see the sky. He hadn't seen the night sky in over two weeks, hadn't felt the breeze in one. And if all the captain wanted was to see him 'under his control,' well, could he honestly say no? As long as he didn't have to give anything, as long as he behaved… he'd get out of this cell and back to the upper deck. How could he resist?

He hated it, though. Giving in to this rogue was the last thing he ever wanted. Letting the man win made him want to stab himself in the gut, but he needed to see the sky. He may not feel confinement as swiftly as his sister did, but after a week of being trapped, he needed a bit of freedom. And if Bill was offering… and wasn't asking him for something he couldn't give… then he'd swallow his pride and give in. Just this once.

"Fine." He said shortly, scowling at the glee that he could see filling the captain's eye at his reluctant agreement.

"Great!" The captain enthused, standing with a flourish. The man walked close to him then, grabbing the chain from its position on the wall. Dipper watched as the captain looked down at him expectantly, clearly waiting for him to get up and get moving. With some reluctance, Dipper attempted to stand, wincing as his scabs pulled. He could see the captain's grin falter at that, but he didn't particularly care. His back was throbbing mildly and he couldn't really find it in him to care much for what the captain did or didn't do.

When Bill grabbed his arm gently, though, to pull him along, Dipper found himself flinching back a bit. Even with his wish to see the sky, he still knew just who it was he was submitting to right then. What the man had done to him. The captain let go of him immediately, like he had been burned, and looked kind of contrite for a brief second. It didn't last long, though, and soon the captain was dragging him along by the chain, happily chatting about this or that, chaining his ankles when they exited the cell. He didn't touch him again, though. Not even while chaining him. Dipper felt relieved.

The walk up to the upper deck was awkward, for Dipper at least. The captain was silent now and the silence was deafening. They had to walk slower than usual, since Dipper's back kept radiating pain when he walked too fast. The captain was surprisingly patient with him, though. He didn't yank the chain, didn't rush him along. Just waited until Dipper was over his bout of agony before moving. Dipper, reluctantly, felt grateful.

Right before they began climbing the stairs that would give them access to the upper deck, Dipper froze, faltering as he looked at the door. While he wanted, desperately, to see the sky, he wasn't sure he wanted to see the mast. To see the place he had been violently beaten by the man who was standing next to him. To have to acknowledge just how twisted his little infatuation was, seeing the scene of the demon's worst crime against him. But he had come so far, he could practically taste the night air. He couldn't stop now.

With a deep breath, he continued on, Bill following silently behind him. He hesitated only slightly at the door, but before any more second thoughts could bombard him, the captain opened it and let the salt air rush in. With shaking legs, Dipper continued on. But he stopped abruptly when he saw what he had so desperately wanted to see, what he had been yearning to see for two, long weeks, yet hadn’t dared hope to ever see again.

The sky was clear that night. Not a cloud marring its wide expanse. He could see each star clearly, could see them twinkle. He felt his breath stop at the sight, his focus solely on the heavens. For the first time in weeks, he could feel peace spread though his body, felt calm invading his heart and laying claim. The sky had always done that to him, ever since he had been a child and had spent hours in the garden, staring upwards towards the great unknown. Ever since his father had meticulously explained the constellation he had recalled learning from his uncle, Dipper’s great uncle.

He felt Bill tug his chains a bit, could hear brief, muttered words, but he wasn't paying attention. He walked, absently, where the captain was walking but he didn't tear his eyes from the dark night sky. Didn't dare, didn't want to think of anything other than the beauty he saw above him. Didn't want reality to invade. Didn’t want to have to acknowledge the fact this was all only temporary. Eventually Bill stopped them and gently, almost hesitatingly, touched his shoulder to indicate that he should sit, which he did. He tried not to think of Bill as he sat, head still faced upward.

As they sat, heads tilted up, not a word was spoken between them, not a single sound uttered. There was no one up there but them, whatever pirates that were up clearly staying away from their spot. Dipper felt distantly relieved, not wishing to spend time around any of them. All he wanted was to sit back, bask in the wonder he always felt when he saw the stars.

When Bill eventually broke the silence, long minutes later, Dipper felt himself jump. It wasn't that he had forgotten the man's presence- it was practically impossible to- it was just that he had been so engrossed in the sky, so engrossed in not thinking about anything, that it was shocking to be dragged away from that. He, on instinct, looked at the captain and felt his breath stop at the peculiar expression on his face. He couldn't even put a name to it, it was so foreign and bizarre. But oh so beautiful.

"Tell me about them." The man muttered, eye trained on him. Dipper cocked his head slightly to the side in mild confusion, not comprehending.

"What?" He whispered back, not wanting to speak loudly and break the calm he felt inside. Bill nodded to the sky.

"The stars, tell me about them. You're clearly knowledgeable, right?" The man questioned, eyebrow raised, the slightest hint of condensation entering his voice. Dipper felt his jaw clench when he heard it, but forced himself to turn back to the sky. Forced himself to ignore what he felt when he saw the man, and began to speak of what he knew. Part of him didn't want to, didn't want to give this part of him up, but a larger part- the part that was lonely and had always ached for someone who was interested in what he had to say- urged him on. He knew that the captain wasn't his friend, wasn't a good man, but for this moment he could pretend. He was very good at pretending.

So he spoke. Softly, with a special sort of enthusiasm, with meaning and joy. He spoke of the stars, of the constellations, of asterisms and planets. He gestured with his hands, he emoted with his voice. For the first time in weeks he felt excited about something, excited about his not-so-secret obsession. It was exhilarating, and as long as he ignored who was beside him, the problems he had, he could enjoy it. God, how he had needed this.

After a while had passed, his voice the only source of sound between them, Dipper tore his eyes from the sky and looked at his companion, wondering if the man was bored, if he was regretting asking. Mabel had always hated it when he had enthused about his interests, speaking at length. She never said it, but he could see it in her eyes, how bored she was. She never meant it, wanted to seem interested for his sake, but it was always in the back of his mind whenever he spoke.

But Bill didn't look bored. He didn't look like he regretted. Bill was just looking at him silently, that same peculiar look on his face, a small, half smirk playing on his lips. Dipper didn't know what to make of it, didn't know what to think. It made him feel funny to see, funny but not wrong. His words faltered and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the man he constantly thought of. The man who had invaded his mind and had taken everything he was and had twisted it.

"I hate you." He whispered then, softly, needing to hear those words. Needed to remind himself that they were true, needed them to be true. The captain's face shifted, darkened before a sardonic smile found its way on his face, self-deprecating in nature.

"You're not the only one. I think I'll live." Bill murmured, before lying back to see the sky more clearly. Dipper looked down at the man for a second, before doing the same, ignoring the pain it caused in his back. Seeing the captain look so serene, so calm, made something in Dipper itch to get a piece of charcoal and draw him, get that look down on paper. But he couldn't, not when he was chained and imprisoned. Several moments passed as the two simply stared upwards, as the sounds of the night washed around them.

He then felt a hand nudge the back of his and felt a jolt run through him at the contact.

"Speak." The captain commanded, and Dipper obliged. He continued what he had been saying before, pointing at specific stars, showing which ones were actually planets, showing all the constellations he remembered. Bill followed, nodding absently at his words. His hand didn't move from where it was pressed against his, and Dipper didn't move his away. Didn't want to. Bill's hand was too warm.

An eternity passed that way, time frozen as Dipper spoke, the only contact he had to the world the hand he felt pressed against his. The stars moved, the ship swayed, but nothing mattered, nothing outside of the sky and this moment. This moment of time where nothing was real and everything seemed so simple. Where he wasn't a prisoner, where he was just a boy who loved the sky, who had a… a friend to speak to. Who had someone who cared. Reality didn't matter; reality hurt and reality devoured. This moment was all he needed to know.

Eventually his words ran out, eventually he grew silent, staring at the sky. Bill's fingers had twined a bit with his, backs still pressed against each other but their fingertips were touching lightly. He wanted to rip his hand away, wanted to feel disgusted at the contact, but he didn't. He couldn't.

"This is your apology, isn't it?" Dipper muttered softly, voicing a thought that had invaded his mind a while before. It was preposterous; Bill didn't repent, didn’t apologize. But this felt like an apology. Like a way to make up for the terror the man beside him had inflicted. He felt Bill shift beside him at his words, the hand pressing against his further. He turned his head and saw that golden eye, glowing in the waning moonlight.

"Pirates don't apologize, Pine Tree." The man murmured back, his face blank as he stared. Dipper blinked, and nodded slowly. Yes, he had noticed that. He turned back to the sky, but didn't remove his hand.

"Dipper." He whispered softly, eyes on his namesake, millions and billions of miles away. He could see from the corner of his eye that Bill had tilted his head to the side, a small frown on his lips.

"My name is Dipper." He explained after a moment had passed, after the man hadn't responded. He knew he had never told the man his name before, knew that he hadn't wanted to then. But now, in this moment when nothing was real, when time didn't exist, he wanted to hear it. To hear his name, to remember who he was. Because he was forgetting, he was forgetting and he was afraid. He needed to remember lest he forget completely and leave himself behind.

"Dipper." He heard a voice muse, soft, high-pitched; familiar. He shivered to hear it from that voice, to hear that man say his preferred name. His nickname that was no longer a nickname but was his identity. He was Dipper Pines. He was. He was.

Silence prevailed again after that, the night sky a constant. Dipper was trapped in a moment, in a thought, in an idea that wasn't real but was. All he could feel was the wooden ship beneath his back, the chill ocean breeze, and the warm hand pressed against his own. He couldn't sense time as he laid here, as he simply was. Time was meaningless, fleeting, a construct made so humans could have structure.

But time moved. Even as he thought, as he was, time moved and things changed. Things always changed. The moon slowly dipped down the sky and Dipper's eyes felt heavy, but he dared not to close them for fear this would end. That he'd wake up and be in his prison again; trapped, trapped, endlessly _trapped_. This moment had to be eternal because when it ended he'd be a prisoner again, he'd be imprisoned in a dark cell that smelled like dying fish and rotten salt water. And suddenly, he was afraid. He'd be nothing, there. He'd no longer exist, there. He would no longer be. He would die down there. He could see this clearly, as he watched the sky move over him. As he felt the freedom and contentment slip from his grasp like smoke.

He felt Bill move against him then, felt warm fingers grab his, properly, felt his hand get engulfed in white hot flame. No other movement, no other sensation, just those fingers grasping his, holding his. His lifeline, the only thing holding him back. The only thing grounding him in this moment, keeping him from drifting away. This was his captor, he thought as he twined his fingers with Bill's. As he gripped the hand in his tightly, needing to feel something in this moment. This man was the reason he would be returning to that cell, why he'd be trapped once more. But he was so afraid. He needed someone, something to hold, even if it was just a hand. He could feel the minutes ticking down and he was ashamed to admit he was scared. He didn’t want to fade away to nothing.

When the sun started to rise, when the stars started to disappear, he felt the man beside him shift, moving to get up, but he stiffened. He was frozen. He didn't want to move, didn't want to go inside. His eyes were stuck on the sky and he couldn't move. He felt the hand in his tug, but he tugged back, feeling mild hysteria fill him.

"No. Please, no. Don't make me go back. Don't lock me down there again. Please." He heard himself beg, his voice a whisper as he did what he had once promised himself he would never do, as he threw his pride away and begged like the child he was. Because he couldn't go back, not after having this freedom. Not after tasting the salt air, not after feeling this peace. Not now. Not ever.

"I have to, kid. You know the rules." The man claimed, after a long moment had passed. His voice sounded wrong, sounded off. Dipper looked up at him and saw pity in the man's eye and he suddenly hated it. It was wrong, and he hated it.

"But you can change the rules." Dipper bit out, sitting as well, staring the man in his eye. "You can. You're the captain of this ship, what you say goes. Don't make me go back there. _Please_ , don't make me go back."

Bill stared at him, face frozen and expressionless. Moments passed as they just stared at one another, another stalemate. Dipper knew then that if Bill forced him to go back, forced him back down into that cold and dark place, he'd never forgive him. It didn't matter the attraction he felt. It didn't matter the charitable thoughts he had for the man. This would be the straw that broke the camel's back. He couldn't go back into that dull monotony. He couldn't be trapped down there again. He couldn't. He had some of his life back, his excitement, and he couldn't let that coldness burn it out. He was already so cold.

"What do you want from me, kid? You ask a lot, for a prisoner. Why should I listen to your request?" Bill finally spoke, that expressionless mask still on his face, his eye boring into Dipper. But he didn't look away. He couldn't.

"Because I can't go back down there. Please, Bill. Don't make me go back down there."

He watched as the man in front of him took in a shuddering breath, his expressionless mask breaking as a frown bloomed on his face.

"You'd still be my prisoner. I'm not letting you go, Pine Tree. Dipper. You're mine, don't think I'm going to forget that." The man warned, still staring, still intense. Dipper shivered. God, he hated this man, hated the man who held claim to him, hated him for what he had done to him and for what he continued to do. He told himself that he hated him. That he had to hate him. And yet, he felt himself nod his agreement to the man's terms.

"Okay. Okay. Just don't make me go back there."

He didn't even really know why he was so averse to going back down into the brig, other than the fact that he was just so afraid. He knew that if he went back, eventually he would die there. Die cold, and alone, and afraid, and he didn't want that. He already knew that he wasn't leaving this ship with his freedom, but now he also knew that he didn't want to spend the rest of his days down in that hellhole. Anywhere was better than the darkness that invaded his mind, invaded him. It was so cold, so quiet down there. He could feel it entering his mind when he wasn't looking. And even with his waning hatred, he had to hope that Bill would not make him go back to that.

A long beat passed, before the captain shrugged, his face relaxing into a small, strained smirk.

"Alright. Fine. I have one other place I can keep you. You won't like it, though." The captain claimed, sounding casual. Dipper wanted to shudder again, the tone making his heart pound with unease, but he held it back and nodded.

"As long as it isn't there, then fine."

Another beat of time passed, before the captain grinned, a slow, dangerous smile that sent shivers down Dipper's spine.

"Very well, then, Pine Tree. Very well." The captain practically purred, eye hooded and grin sharp enough to wound. Dipper couldn't hold his shudder back that time, uncertainty filling him as he took in the frightening look.

With practiced ease, the captain stood, abrupt and clean like he was wont to be. Dipper felt his hand be dragged up as well, the man yanking him up crudely, causing a jolt of lightning pain to race down his back. He stifled his cry as the captain turn and strode quickly away, the boy following as well as he could a second later, unable to do anything else since their hands were still attached.

Dipper's mind felt muddled again as they walked, the long night catching up to him as they moved. The long two weeks. He could feel exactly how exhausted he was, could feel the sluggish way he shuffled. And he could feel the glares of the various pirates they passed, daggers that pierced through his skin, all the way to his ever beating heart. God, he was tired. And cold. And oh so alone. He just wanted to feel safe- feel warm- for a moment. It was why he had begged to not be returned to that prison cell of his.

The glares were affecting him, though. It was early morning, just passed dawn, so not many were awake. But those that were had stopped their work and were glaring at him. Poison darts that only increased the ice that had started filling his heart the moment he had seen his mother's body lying on the ground, eyes dead, the acrid stench of smoke infiltrating his lungs. The ice that had been increasing with each day he spent on this godforsaken ship. The ice that threatened to devour his still beating heart. His breath hitched as he stared at a particularly vicious looking pirate, the hilt of his blade glinting in the early morning glow. His hands began to shake ever so slightly.

It wasn't until he felt the man beside him stop abruptly that he was pulled from his darkening thoughts, that he felt the icy band around his heart lessen somewhat with distraction. Then he saw just where it was they had been headed, His eyes widening as he took in the familiar door, breath halting for a second as his exhausted mind processed.

"You've got to be kidding me." Dipper breathed, voice soft as he stared in mild horror, turning his gaze on the now grinning pirate captain.

"You said you wanted a new place to stay, kid. I only have a few places I can put you and still be able to keep an eye on you. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to bunk with the rest of the crew?" The captain grinned, raising an eyebrow in question. Dipper felt himself shudder at the thought, knowing that he would surely die if that were to ever happen. He shook his head slowly, watching as the captain let out a low chuckle, dark merriment in his remaining eye.

"Didn't think so! Come on, Pine Tree. Let's get you all nice and settled so I can get to work. I'm a very busy guy, after all."

The words were mocking, his smirk sharp as the man opened the door with a flourish, striding through the room with practiced ease. Dipper followed, eyes darting around the room he knew too well, left hand nearly in flames as Bill tugged him along.

When they reached the mysterious door, mahogany wood with intricate swirls around triangular designs, he watched as the captain took out a brass key and fit it into the keyhole, unlocking the room and entering it with a flourish.

"Welcome, Pine Tree, to my humble abode." The man grinned, eye glinting at he looked back at the boy he was dragging along. Dipper just blinked, taking in the admittedly beautiful room.

The first thing Dipper noticed was that the walls were rich in color, dark and enchanting. Skimming his eyes across the area, he absently saw that on the back and left side of the room was a large window, which showed a lovely view of the blue ocean. On the left hand side of the room was a dining area, a table and chair set that took up a good deal of space. Behind it was a cabinet, cedar wood with golden accents. Moving his eyes on, he took in the back of the room, where the window ended and the wall began, seeing an enormous four poster bed, blood red wood and sheets. To the right side of the bed was a large wardrobe and an end table to the left, with a chest laying innocently in front of it. Finally, on the right hand side of the room was a living area, with several cushioned velvet chairs and a long lounge along the wall, a bright yellow rug laying underneath the ensemble. Dipper couldn't help but think it looked very out of place in the dark room.

The boy was pulled from his thoughts once again when he felt the man to his side tug his arm, pulling him along to the right hand side of the room. Looking closer, Dipper could see that there was a sturdy looking bar attached to the wall left of the lounge. The purpose of which was made known as the captain fastened his chain to the bar, giving him just enough room to sit and lie down. As he watched the captain move, Dipper wondered once again just how wise of an idea this was. His heart was pounding as he shifted awkwardly, standing stiffly as the captain bent before him to take the ankle restraints off.

With the chains in hand, the captain stood and stepped back, nodding his head in satisfaction, a smirk playing on his lips. It was like this had been his plan all along, like he had always wanted Dipper to be chained in his room. If it wasn't for the oddly tense glint in the man's eye, Dipper might have believed the facade.

"There! All secure." The man hummed, glancing around the room absently. "I'll be back later, once I'm done with my work. See you then, Pine Tree. Don't break anything while I'm gone!"

Then, quicker than Dipper could react, the man darted forward again and left a chaste kiss on his lips, a barely there press of flesh that had Dipper not been hyper aware, he would have missed. Freezing, his pounding heart lurching to a halt, Dipper stared wide eyed at the retreating figure, mouth tingling and numb. The man sauntered to the door, his hips swaying like they were wont to do. Like he was dancing, like he was performing for an audience of one. Dipper was transfixed, unable to tear his eyes away, even after the man had disappeared out the door with nary a backwards glance. It was only when he felt the ship raise the anchor and set out that he slid down the wall to the ground, his heart pounding as he took in this new advancement.

Well. Okay. So he… he was no longer staying in the brig. He no longer had to return to that pressing cold and invading dark. That was… good. That was great. After the freedom of being in the cool yet not unpleasant sea air, he was unsure if he would have been able to take a return to that hell. Now, however, he was being held in the quarters of the captain. Of a man he had developed… _feelings_  for. That was… less good. Horrifying, actually.

He took in a straggled breath, body shivering, despite the warmth he felt from the room at large. He honestly had no idea what to think, how to feel. His heart was like ice, freezing his limbs as he stared blankly ahead. There was no way this would ever work out. With his thoughts toward the captain, with the way his heart lurched whenever the man looked at him… the way his nerves tingled at every touch… the way his lips still tingled with a phantom memory of warmth pressed against them…oh, there was no way this would end well. It was funny; just this morning he had never wanted to ever see this man again, now he was practically living with him. What would this do to him?

Oh, he didn't want to think of this, he thought miserably as he folded his knees to his chest and hugged them close. He had just wanted to be free of the brig, wanted to be out of that horrid prison. To not feel so cold inside. And now here he was, his lips tingling from a barely there press, the second kiss he had received from the captain.

He would have to think more of this later. For now, he was exhausted, having stayed up the entire night, stargazing with Bill. He'd examine it all when he woke up, when he had rested.

Things would work out. Somehow, they'd work out.

They had to.


	13. I Know I'm a Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Did everyone have a good Christmas? I did. My dad took my family to Disneyland's California Adventure, which was really cool. To everyone who doesn't celebrate Christmas, I hope you had a good day. ^-^
> 
> Anyway, new chapter! I hope you guys like this, it was a bit... awkward for me to write. Aha, I have no idea how sexual attraction works, so please bear with me. I also feel I should note that there will be absolutely no smut in this story. In fact, I head-canon Bill as asexual, so... yeah. 
> 
> Oh. And I have some bad news. So... I'm almost out of chapters that are written. I have... 3 written, and one half of another done. So I may have to take a bit of a break in three-four weeks, to allow myself to finish this story. I apologize; I've not been feeling well and writing has not been easy recently. 
> 
> Last thing: the title of this chapter comes from the song I Know I'm a Wolf, by Young Heretics. I don't know, I just find the song very much Bill and Dipper. So take a listen to it, if you want. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Dipper stared at the wall that was across from him, eyes blank as he heard soft breathing echo around the room. Letting out a breath of his own, he slowly leaned back against the wall and let his mind wander. He had to think, he knew he did. This was a big change and he needed to think.

This wasn't good. He knew it wasn't good. There was no universe where this situation could ever be considered _good_. God, he had just wanted to be free of the dark and damp brig; how had this happened? This hadn't been what he had wanted. When he had begged Bill to be free of that prison last night, it had been spur of the moment, unplanned. He had always been afraid down there, and in that moment with Bill he had felt so safe and warm, and he realized he hadn't ever wanted to feel that overpowering cold again. He had just started to feel like himself again, how could he bear to return to the nothingness that tried to destroy him?

So he had asked to be free. Begged, to be free. And honestly, just what had he expected to happen? That Bill would ever let him go? He'd have a better chance of the man renouncing his life of piracy. No, Bill wouldn't just let him go, so he supposed he should be grateful that Bill had listened to him at all and had let him out of the brig. After all, he supposed that this room was better than staying down in the brig. It wasn't dark, wasn't cold. He knew, though, that it came with its own disadvantages. Big disadvantages. Terrible, horrible disadvantages. The main and worst one being the man who was currently fast asleep mere feet away from him.

Oh dear. Just a day ago Dipper had been panicking about his thoughts about the captain. He had felt disgust and hatred roll through his gut at the very thought of the man. Had never wanted to see the man ever again. And now, now he was practically living with him. Dipper let out a soft sigh, grimacing at the thought.

When he had woken earlier, the room around him darkened and still, he had almost thought that it had been a dream. That he had never begged the captain, that he was still trapped down below. But then he had heard soft breathing, a sound he hadn't heard in his room in over two weeks, and he felt a softness beneath his body, and he knew it was no dream. He had made a deal with the devil and it seemed he would have to pay for it.

Because pay he would. He knew he would. He already was, his eyes drawn back to the form on the bed, feeling a phantom tingle rise in his lips. He wanted to forget that kiss, wanted to believe that it hadn't happened just like he had wanted to believe the first one hadn't happened, but, like the first, he found he couldn't. His lips tingled and his mind raced, and he couldn't stop staring at the man. He had done it so casually, this kiss. Like they had done it hundreds of times before, like it was just a natural thing they did.

But it wasn't. It wasn't and Dipper didn’t know what to think of it. He didn't know what to think of any of this, but especially not that. Why had the captain even done it? To confuse him, to disorient him? Or was he really just insane, like Dipper had always thought he was? He supposed it would make sense. The man did change emotions rapidly enough. One moment he was soft, that small, gentle smile on his face, and the next he was frantic, a huge, unnerving grin stretched across his cheeks as he yanked him up and dragged him along. It honestly wouldn't surprise him if the man had some mental afflictions.

He let out another sigh and closed his eyes briefly, wanting a moment reprieve. He opened them again a second later though, unable to stop the thoughts or the impulse that drove him to stare, and examined the form that was sleeping so peacefully on the four poster bed to Dipper's right. The form that refused to leave his mind. The form that caused such wrong thoughts to form in his mind. He just couldn't seem to look away from that form. He couldn't really see the man in full from his angle, but he could see his face, peeking out from under the blood red covers over the edge of the bed. It surprised Dipper a bit that the man would sleep so compact, even with the huge amount of space he had to deal with, having always thought the man to be one who would spread out leisurely in his sleep. His face was relaxed, though. Peaceful, serene. No mask, no airs. Just an expression of such… normality. Dipper had to admit it was beautiful.

He knew that he would never understand that man. He knew this like he knew he would never leave this ship on his own terms. He would never get why the captain did the things he did, why he acted the way he did. He'd never know if it was a persona or if it was just who he was. He was such a mystery and Dipper hated it. Hated how much he still wanted to figure the man out. The man who had hurt him so violently. The man who had caused him to feel so wrong inside. The man who had wormed his way into Dipper's affections and refused to leave. He didn't love the man, he knew he didn't, knew he couldn't, but he felt something for him. He had accepted this, too tired to keep fighting the truth he honestly could no longer deny. Not when his lips refused to stop tingling. Not when he was staring at that face, so calm in sleep. Not when he felt his stomach churning with that emotion he still didn't want to name, even if he had mostly accepted it. It was more than he could take, naming this peculiar feeling. He knew he wouldn't stop hating the man, that he _couldn't_  stop hating the man, but he would at least acknowledge the feelings he felt for him. He needed to, otherwise he'd go madder in the long run.

It still made him feel so wrong inside. Because he knew just who it was he had affections for, what the man was. What he had done, not just to him, but to countless people. The captain had told him all about it, in length. His crimes, his murders. It was disgusting to think that even with that information, even with the knowledge of who the man was, Dipper still wanted him. It made him wonder what was wrong with him that he did.

Dipper could feel himself getting lost in his thoughts, his troubled mind churning furiously with everything that was going on. There was so much to work through, so much he needed to work through. That kiss, this new arrangement. How he was going to deal with everything. His eyes were trained on the man who was causing his turmoil, but he wasn't really seeing, his mind too occupied to register sight. That was why when a sleepy voice sounded in the room, sounding far too amused for its own good, Dipper found himself jumping from fright, pulled from his tumultuous thoughts bitterly.

"You know, Pine Tree, it's considered rude in most cultures to watch a man as he sleeps."

He could feel his heart beating fast as he looked at the lump on the bed with wide eyes, seeing an amused, golden eye peek out from under the deep red covers that swamped the bed. He hadn't noticed it open before, having been so deep in thought, and part of him had to wonder just how long the pirate captain had been watching him as well.

He forced a scowl to rise on his face as the moments passed and that eye kept looking at him, to show his displeasure. He felt uncomfortable under its scrutiny and he felt like squirming, but resisted since he knew it would just amuse the man further. He still felt so wrong inside at that gaze, and it was doing things to his insides he didn't want to think of.

After the man seemed content that he had unnerved Dipper enough, he looked away and shrugged the covers off of himself, stretching lightly as he sat. He could feel relief that that golden eye was off of him, but the feeling it had inspired remained. In order to keep himself composed, Dipper adverted his eyes, not really wanting to see the way the fabric bunched up over that golden stomach. It just led to bad thoughts that he definitely should not have while the man in question was only a handful of feet away from him.

When he heard soft footsteps padding across the floor, over to the left hand side of the room, Dipper thought it was safe and lifted his eyes a bit so he could track the man's progress. He didn't really want to, but his eyes betrayed him, drawn like magnets to the captain. But it wasn't safe to look up, it was never safe to look up, because when his eyes found the man, when he looked up and saw the captain sans his usual yellow jacket, dressed only in his black sailing shirt and trousers, his hair mused from sleep, Dipper couldn't stop the wave of heat that filled his gut. Nor could he stop the thoughts that entered his mind at the sight, thoughts that he never had had about a living person before- not even Wendy- and it scared him. But oh, did the captain look good like this. Like some Egyptian god, ethereal and eerily beautiful.

And then, when the captain looked up at him… his eye hooded, a small smirk on his face, teasing and just plain sinful… Dipper wanted to look away, wanted to look down and never look up again, desperately not wanting to embarrass himself more than he already had, but he couldn't. Couldn't tear his eyes away, couldn't stop the way his stomach fluttered and his mouth dried impossibly. It was like a moth to the flame, he thought desperately. Like he was a drowning man, needing to fight against the suffocating water but constantly getting pulled further and further down. He didn't want to feel this way, but God, he just couldn't stop.

He heard the captain chuckle then, turning away from him and sauntering over to the cabinet that resided next to the window alcove. He watched as the man opened it and grabbed himself a glass, as well as a bottle of what Dipper thought to be whiskey, pouring himself two fingers worth before putting the bottle back. He hesitated, though, before closing the door.

"Want some?" The captain questioned, lazily, turning his gaze back to where the boy was sitting. Dipper shook his head once, unable to do much more than that. The captain replied with a casual shrug, before closing the cabinet and moving over to the table that resided to the right of the cabinet, taking a seat in one of the chairs. "Your loss, Pine Tree."

Silence filled the room then, as Bill sipped his drink slowly, carefully, like he was savoring the taste. Like it was the best thing he had ever tasted. Dipper, despite himself, could not help his eyes from wandering to the man's throat, watching as it bobbed up and down with each swallow. He tracked the movement carefully, trying his hardest to not feel what he was feeling right then, knowing that it was sinful and wrong. But try as he might, he failed, and he wondered for the millionth time just what was wrong with him. Why he couldn't just ignore this man.

Long moments passed before the captain had finished his whiskey, a playful smirk on his face. Dipper felt his face flush hotly when the man turned slowly and looked at him, eye focussed solely on him. And it wasn't out of shame at getting caught staring yet again, but because of the look in the man's eye. The simmering heat that stole Dipper's breath, the amusement tempered by an emotion Dipper feared to name for what it would do to him if he did. He could feel heat radiate through him as he stared at the man, wanting to hate himself for feeling this way, wanting to stop feeling this way, but knowing he'd be unable to. Emotions didn't go away just because one wanted them to, after all. Dipper had learned that the hard way.

A beat of time passed, their gazes caught in a passionate glance, before the captain rose slowly, his eye still focussed on Dipper. With slow movements, the captain sauntered forward, hips swaying prominently. Dipper could feel his breath catch yet again as his eyes were drawn to a place they had no right to wander to. The man didn't falter in his steps, even though Dipper was sure he knew where his eyes had strayed.

In no time at all the captain had reached him, the space between them disappearing quicker than Dipper would have liked. He felt his heart stop dead in his chest as he looked up at the pirate who towered over him. The pirate whose eye was hooded and dark, whose face was stretched into a soft smirk. Whose beauty was even greater up close than it was far away, a beauty Dipper had tried to not think of once but now was unable to stop. He swallowed to try and moisten his throat, but it hardly made a difference. He could only watch, helpless, as the captain knelt down slowly, eye still boring into him, until he was level with Dipper. The boy could feel the heat in his stomach pool, and he was forced to shift in order to sit comfortably.

The captain's eye was so intense, so mesmerizing and hypnotizing. Dipper could practically feel the man's gaze like a physical being. He let out a soft, nearly inaudible gasp when the captain lifted his left hand and grasped his cheek gently, his mind shutting down as he tried and failed to comprehend the surplus of stimuli he was receiving from his body. He could feel fire running through his veins, like he was being burned alive at the man's touch.

He couldn't move, didn't dare, as he watched the captain lean closer, so close he could feel the man's breath on his face, could smell the whiskey he had been drinking. It smelled sweet, like candy. He could get drunk off this feeling, he thought as his eyes fluttered shut, his breath shallow as the man crept closer and closer, his body hyper sensitive to every sensation he felt. The hand cupping his face was so warm, so soothing, a thumb rubbing gentle circles beneath his right eye.

Agonizing moments passed like that, the only sound Dipper's shallow breath and Bill's steady ones. Dipper's mind had long shut down and all he could feel was cruel anticipation as he awaited a kiss, a kiss he wanted, a kiss he needed. God, he needed this man, needed him like he needed air. It hurt, just how much he _needed_  in this moment. He couldn't feel anything other than sinful, utterly wrong lust, and he just didn't care. A hand- not the one holding his cheek, that one was still drawing soft circles on his face- drifted into his hair and Dipper felt himself shudder at the feeling. All he could do was wait in anticipation for those chapped lips to touch his, to press against his.

Before those lips touched his, he heard a soft voice whisper into the air between them, and he felt himself shiver to hear it.

"You had something in your hair, Pine Tree. Thought you might like some assistance getting it out."

What? That had not been quite what he had expected to hear. Dipper felt his eyes fly open as the presence in front of him vanished suddenly, as the burning heat he had felt against him disappeared within an instant. He struggled to comprehend what had just happened, as he watched the man he had needed so desperately lean back on his legs, grinning widely as he held up a piece of yellow fuzz between his right thumb and forefinger. It was only then that the words that had been spoken registered in his befuddled mind, and he felt a different sort of fire flood through his veins. Shame, hot and scalding, filled him as he watched the man stand cheerfully and saunter casually over to his bed, picking the red coverlet up and spread it evenly over the surface. He didn't look back at him, didn't even acknowledge his presence as he worked, though Dipper could see a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

Oh, God, what had just happened? What had just happened?! Dipper could feel his heart squeezing painfully as he struggled for breath, hunching in on himself as he tried to comprehend what he had just done. What he had just exposed to the pirate captain, to his captor. Oh dear God, he was going to be sick.

He hated that man. God, did he hate that man with everything he had in him. Hated him like he had never hated another human being before, like he hadn't even known was physically possible for a person to feel. He was shaking, physically shaking, from the shame and upset that was flooding his system and he was trying desperately to regain control but he couldn't. He couldn't, and it was all because of that man, that man who didn't care for him one lick. Who was humming happily as he puttered around his room, no care about what he had just done to him.

"I hate you," Dipper heard himself whisper roughly. He had wanted to bite the words out, to force them from his lips like a bullet from a gun, but his throat betrayed him. It was too thick and painful to be of any real use. He felt his eyes close as he shook, even more humiliation hitting him at how pathetic he sounded. God, he hated that man. _Hated him._ That hatred flared when he heard the man chuckle, clearly highly amused at this situation.

"I think you told me that one, Pine Tree. You're repeating yourself."

Dipper gritted his teeth at that answer, opening his eyes briefly so he could glare daggers at the man who had just tricked him yet again. Bill looked so pleased with himself as he made his bed, so smug, and to his mortification Dipper could feel tears gather in his eyes. He hastily ducked them behind his knees before the man could see, but he couldn't stop the couple that slipped through.

Yeah, this whole thing had been a mistake. A terrible, _horrible_  mistake. Living so close to this man would drive him to insanity. It already had, if he had honestly _wanted_  to kiss that insane demon of a man. Bill didn't feel like a normal human felt. He didn't understand emotions. He couldn't. How could he, if he had purposely used Dipper's feelings against him? If he was able to kill with no remorse? Something was wrong with the captain, so what did it say about him that he felt the way he did, even after everything?  
  
As Dipper sat, he started to feel worse and worse. After all, there was no doubt in the boy's mind that the man knew just what it was he had been feeling in that moment, and yet still he had purposely fanned the flame, only to cruelly leave with a made up excuse that held no water. A way to show he knew the effect he had, yet refused to care. Refused to show compassion for another human being. It was just another cruelty that the captain showed so casually, so why was he so surprised? Why was he so… so hurt? Because he hurt. God, did he hurt. He should have expected this, really. After everything Bill had done.

Time crawled after that, the captain continuing to putter around his quarters, doing whatever the hell it was he was doing. Dipper didn't know, as he had yet to remove his head from his knees, instead burrowing closer to them, scrunching into as tight a ball as he could manage. Part of him was hoping that if he squeezed tight enough, hoped hard enough, he could simply disappear and never have to see that monster again, never have to face his humiliation. He could feel pain in his back as he stretched his scabs, but he honestly didn't care. Let it hurt. Everything else did. It had hurt ever since he had first boarded this ship. God forbid he ever have a moment’s reprieve.

It was several minutes later that he heard footsteps wander over to where he was sitting, which made him cringe and curl tighter into his ball. He was hoping against hope that the captain would just pass him by, would just leave him the hell alone, but luck, as always, was against him. His back was stiffer than a board as the man stopped in front of him, feet shifting on the carpeted wooden floor as he stood.

"You can't hide from me, you know," Bill stated, amusement thick in his voice. Dipper stiffened impossibly further, but refused to look up. Couldn't look up, because he knew what expression the man would have on his face and he couldn't bear to see it. Not now, not when he had humiliated himself so thoroughly. It would destroy him to see it and he didn't want to give Bill that satisfaction.

"You look like a child," the man chided lightly, and Dipper could hear him kneeling down once more. He acknowledged that the man's words were probably true, yet he still refused to leave his safety ball. It was his protection, the only protection he had. He was feeling so raw and wrong and utterly stupid, and he didn't want anyone to see him like that, least of all Bill. He didn't care if Bill thought him a child, because it was better than the man knowing just how upset he really was. Not just at Bill, but at himself, for allowing himself to get lost in his emotions and abandon reason completely. For letting the man affect him so greatly. He should have known better. He did know better, yet he had still fallen for it. God, he was such an _idiot_.

"Ah, come on Pine Tree. It was just a joke," a beat passed. "Would it make you feel better if I promised to kiss you if you looked up?"

And now the man was mocking him. Dipper felt himself start shaking again from his anger and upset, disgust rolling inside of his gut. Oh, he hated this man. Hated him, hated him, _hated him_. To his horror, he heard himself let out a soft sob, a barely audible hitch of breath, but he just knew that Bill had heard it. Knew that life wouldn't be kind enough for the man not to. God, he wanted to just disappear. To vanish from this plane of existence altogether.

"Kid..." the captain began, before trailing off, a thick silence filling the space between them. Dipper just tucked his knees even closer to his body and tried his best to ignore the world. Several moments passed like this, before he heard Bill speak again.

"Hey, Pine Tree, did you know you're bleeding?" The man asked, almost casually, but with a hint of concern hidden beneath. Dipper shuddered, but didn't reply. It wouldn't surprise him if he was bleeding. His back did hurt enough. He had probably caused some of his scabs to come off with his harsh position, not to mention all the moving around he had done earlier that day. He couldn't find it in him to really care, though. So what, he was bleeding? It didn't matter. All that mattered was composing himself enough that he could face the world without mortifying himself any further.

"Pine Tree… come on, stop being so stubborn. It was a harmless joke, no need to get your panties in a bunch," the captain huffed, the barest hint of frustration entering his voice. Good, Dipper thought unfavorably. Let him feel frustrated. Maybe he could find it in him to actually feel bad for something for once in his life. Another minute passed before he heard the pirate groan.

"What do you want? Do you want me to apologize? Well I'm not going to! So get over it and let me tend to your back, alright?"

Like that was ever going to work. If anything, it just made Dipper feel more stubborn and obstinate. He hadn't exactly been looking for an apology, but if the captain wanted to believe that, then more power to him. Dipper just wanted to be left alone, to be allowed to calm himself properly. To be able to let his shame run its course without the man who had caused it staring at him, judging him.

A long pause occurred after that, Bill most likely trying to think of something else that would tempt the boy, and Dipper just trying to ignore the man was there in the first place. Eventually the man let out a sigh, a soft thump sounding from his direction.

"Look- ugh, I hate this. Fine. I'm… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Okay? Is that what you wanted? Will you let me look at your back now?" The man forced out, sounding incredibly uncomfortable.

Well, that was unexpected. Dipper felt himself take a small, startled breath at the words. Had he heard right? Had the man actually _apologized_  to him? The same man who, not even twelve hours previous, had claimed that pirates didn't apologize? Who had practically admitted that _he_  never apologized? Well, Dipper would be damned. It seemed miracles did occur. Dipper could feel his shame tempering a bit as he let the apology run through his mind. If Bill truly never said he was sorry, than this must have been a big deal for him. That meant that he probably did feel bad for upsetting Dipper, even if he didn't feel bad for the act itself. And, if Dipper was being honest, he was more upset at himself than he was at the captain. It was mortifying to be caught in such a sinful moment, and to be denied relief from those feelings. Especially by one whom he should not be having feelings for in the first place. But that wasn't really the captain's fault. And his back did hurt, so maybe he shouldn't be stubborn and deny himself care. So, even though he did still feel raw and shamed, he found himself uncurling a bit from his ball and looking up, his eyes wide as he took in the man sitting in front of him.

The first thing the boy noticed was that the man was sitting on the ground opposite him, knees raised like Dipper's were, arms crossed uncomfortably over his chest. He was glaring at him a bit, a soft pout on his lips as he sat, looking almost like he was sulking. Dipper had to admit it was amusing to see on the pirate's face. He noticed absently that the man was wearing his yellow jacket again, the bright color nearly luminescent in the dim light. Part of him felt regret that the man had covered that black shirt of his, which showed the man's lean form.

When the captain noticed that Dipper had looked up, the boy saw a relieved look pass over the captain's face, though a bit of frustration still remained.

"Great. So can I look at your back now, or are you going to push me away?" He questioned, that hint of annoyance in his voice as he raised an eyebrow at the boy. Dipper bit his lip gently, thinking. Part of him wanted to say no. Wanted to tell the pirate to never touch him. Didn't want the man to be so close after his humiliation. Knew that it would make him feel things that he didn't want to feel again. But another part knew that he needed to get his back looked at. It was still healing, which meant that it could still get an infection if it was left unattended. Plus, it was really starting to hurt. It was with a soft sigh of defeat that he eventually nodded, shifting slightly.

"Fine. You'll have to remove the manacles first, though. I can't take off my shirt with them on," Dipper reminded, his voice a touch stiff due to his earlier emotions. The captain nodded absently, standing and walking over to a drawer that resided beside the man's bed, pulling out the ankle manacles that he had removed earlier. Striding back over to him, he knelt down and locked the manacles in place before removing the ones around Dipper's wrist. The man then stood again and left the room, presumably to get the herbs from his office.

Dipper used the time the man was gone to remove his shirt carefully, wincing as he saw the blood that had stained it. It was a shame, he really had grown to like this shirt. Perhaps Bill could get it cleaned, like he had the previous time, since Dipper noticed there wasn't a hint of blood from his previous injury and only a barely visible stitch on the left shoulder. He hoped so. This was one of the only things he had left from his ship, from his sister, and he didn't want to lose it again.

Bill came back soon after, herbs and rags in hand like expected. The man paused for a moment when he looked at Dipper, but quickly regained his pace and was by his side in no time at all.

"Lie down," The man commanded, which Dipper did, with a hint of reluctance. His face felt just a bit hot, his shame not completely gone, and he really didn't want to feel those hands on him, lest he humiliate himself any further. But it couldn't be helped. And once he was fully laying down, letting out a soft hiss at the pain, those hands were back. And God was it uncomfortable.

"You need to relax, Pine Tree. You're just making it worse by being so stiff," The man above him muttered, his warm hands pausing over his right shoulder blade. Dipper, knowing the man's words to be true, did his best to force the tension he felt away. It was difficult though, especially with those warm hands touching him so softly, so carefully. Dipper was sure that if a man could love a pair of hands, he'd be long gone for the pair Bill owned. It wasn't helpful to feel, though, when one was trying to suppress emotions.

Bill returned to his ministrations, making sure to get the paste of herbs thoroughly into each wound that had opened, diligent and careful. Eventually Dipper found himself relaxing, even as his body stayed hyper aware of the hands gliding across his back. It was nice, he had to admit.

When the man's hands left him a few minutes later, Dipper felt a bit disappointed. His shame had gradually left as the time moved, and he didn't want it to come back now that he had no distraction. But, unless he wanted to keep lying on the carpeted floor like a fool, or else beg the man to keep going which would just humiliate him further, he'd have to get up eventually. It was with a soft grunt of discomfort that he did so, flexing his back carefully to get the kinks out of it. He heard the man across from him catch his breath, and he turned to him with confused eyes. Bill, however, had turned away by then, grabbing the bandages that he had put down next to him.

Taking a long strip of the white fabric, the man came close to Dipper and began wrapping it firmly across his chest and back. Bill had done this for the first few days he had the injury, but had stopped after they had healed enough for the blood to cease flowing. At the time he had been relieved, since the process of getting the bandages put on required them to be close together, practically hugging while Bill wrapped the fabric across his back. Now he could feel his stomach fluttering at the contact, an unconscious tremor flowing through his body as he felt Bill's clothed body press up against his bare chest. He honestly shouldn't be feeling that way, especially not after the humiliation he had faced earlier, but he couldn't help it. As much as he hated to admit it, it felt good, having the man pressed against him like this. Like his body had been engulfed by warmth and safety. Funny how he felt this way about the man who had caused his injury in the first place. Life was crazy that way.

It didn't take long for Bill to finish putting on the bandages, but Dipper's face was still flushed by the time the man had backed away. The boy bit his lip and looked down, not really wanting to see the man and potentially embarrass himself further. He felt so warm, felt heat flowing through his veins, and knew he had to cool himself before Bill noticed.

But, only a moment later, he felt those warm hands grasping his face, turning it up so he could see Bill, a parody of their earlier position. Bill had a peculiar look on his face, his eye hooded and filled with an unknown emotion. It made Dipper shiver to see. He wanted to rip his head away, to jerk back from the man, to stop whatever trick the man had planned this time, but he found he couldn't. Even with his previous humiliation fresh in his mind, even though he knew this was wrong, he couldn't bear to tear his face away. And when the man crept closer again, slowly, Dipper still couldn't find it in him to move. He just sat there passively, waiting for whatever it was Bill had planned. And when those lips finally, _finally_  pressed against his? Well, he found himself pressing back, a soft gasp escaping him as he did.

Oh. Oh, this was nice. Wait, no, this wasn't just nice. This was _heaven_. Different to the first two kisses, this one was the first where Dipper actively participated, his lips pressing back just as desperately as Bill's were, and it made all the difference in the world. It was like his heart had stopped, like his mind had ceased to work. Like everything was holding its breath in this one moment of time, this one perfect moment. He felt his hands reach up to grab at the captain's hair, surprisingly silky and smooth, just as he felt hands gripping his hips, pulling him up so he was flush against the captain, their hips pressed gloriously together. Time froze as their lips moved wondrously together, as they gripped one another so desperately, so hungrily.

This was everything he had ever thought a kiss should be. It made his heart flutter, made his stomach tremble. Made his mind go so gloriously blank that he didn't ever want to think again. God it was amazing. He let out a moan when he felt the man ran the tip of his tongue against the seam of his lips, and he found himself opening his mouth and letting the man in. And oh, that was even better. Bill's tongue met his in his mouth and caressed it, gentle and- dare he say it- loving. Dipper moved back against the muscle and they pressed against each other, just like with their lips. It was give and take, neither stealing more than the other was willing to part with, and it was a magical sensation. He didn't ever want this feeling to end, didn't ever want to part from the man and lose this heavenly feeling.

Minutes passed as the two just pressed against each other, hands wandering, bodies thrumming. Their mouths moved against each other and they kissed until they had no breath left in their lungs, until they were physically drawn apart. But even as they drew away, their foreheads were touching lightly and they remained close, their torsos and hips pressed firmly together. Dipper could feel the other man and it made him flush with heat and intense want. Oh, how he wanted this man. So badly it hurt. He pressed his hips firmly against the other and shivered at the low moan the man released. Their lips met again and the cycle repeated itself, Dipper's entire body erupt in flame. It was a long while until they managed to part for good, the captain trailing insistent kisses along his neck, nipping at the tender flesh he found there. Dipper just tilted his head to the side and let him, moaning yet again at the sensation.

He felt Bill shivering against him, his body wracked with tremors just as his was, so he knew the man was just as affected as him. It was a comfort to know that, this time, they both were involved. They both felt equally as invested. Bill was still leaning against his neck, his lips pressed gently against the skin but no longer insistent. Now it was just a simple press, the lips resting there as the man caught his breath. Dipper sympathized. He was having a hard time breathing himself. Like all the air in the room had vanished.

"Oh what you do to me, Pine Tree," he heard the man mutter against his neck, which caused him to press up against the man in response, eliciting another beautiful moan. "Never felt this before. Never… God. Didn't know it felt like this. Understand why my men like this feeling so much," the man muttered softly, almost like it was to himself. Dipper just stroked his hand over the man's back in response, holding him as he shuddered. He had no idea what to say, what to do, he was just running on instinct at the moment. And oh was it wonderful. He had never felt so glad for his mind to be shut off. He could feel those chapped lips moving against his skin, barely there kisses, and he loved it. Needed to feel this forever, needed this moment to never, ever end.

But nothing lasted forever, as he knew all too well. And pretty soon the captain was pulling back, his hands leaving Dipper's hips and settling on his shoulders as nearly a foot of distance was created between them, which was far too much in Dipper's opinion. But something about the man's face stopped the boy from closing the distance again. Bill looked so… raw. So exposed. His eye was wide and blown and his mouth was red and slightly open. There was a hint of desperation on the man's face, a pinch of fear that had Dipper keeping his distance, lest he made the man change, made him put his deadly mask back on. For Dipper could see now that a lot of the time the man wore a mask, a disguise that hid his true emotions. It was likely why he switched emotions so rapidly, why one moment he was soft and the next he was hard. Dipper hated that mask, especially after seeing this. Seeing him so open. It was breath-taking to witness, more beautiful than any opulent jewel in the world. He loved this look.

"You're beautiful," Dipper breathed, voicing a thought that he had kept hidden for a little while. He hadn't meant to say it, but his mind wasn't working and it just burst out. He was mildly concerned when Bill slowly blinked his eye, before letting out a few chuckles, which evolved into full on laughter, his head tilted back and his mouth stretched wide as his eye closed. Dipper would have been more concerned, or even offended, but this laughter didn't sound insane. It wasn't the usual high-pitched, ringing laugh the man had used before. This was more earthy, more genuine. Like he honestly found Dipper's words hilarious. It was mesmerizing to see, so he couldn't find it in him to feel embarrassment. Not if his words made Bill laugh like this. Honestly, he was almost positive that he'd do just about anything to get Bill to laugh like this again. Beautiful. Never knew a man could _be_  so utterly beautiful.

"Oh, Pine Tree. I'd say the same to you, but I don't think anyone would consider your unruly hair beautiful," the man claimed. While the words seemed like they were an insult, Dipper could detect no heat in the words, instead only fond humor, and so he decided to take them like he always took Mabel's casual insults; if it was obvious they weren't meant to hurt, he wouldn't perceive them that way. Besides, Bill had the softest, most genuine smile on his lips and there was no way Dipper could ever feel upset when looking at that smile. Gorgeous. Stupendous. Magnificent. So many words, and yet none of them captured the true essence of this man.

Slowly he felt Bill's hands leave his shoulders and Dipper knew their moment was ending. Had known it couldn't last, but this just proved it. Part of him wanted to tighten his grip, to never let the man in his arms go, but he knew that Bill wouldn't appreciate that. So, with reluctance, he let the man slip away, watched him lean back on his thighs as he ran a hand through his hair, the smile disappearing as a pensive look overtook his face.

"Tell me, Pine Tree. How old are you?" The man asked the ground, not facing him, a blank look filling his eye. Dipper shifted upon seeing it, wondering just what was going on inside that man's head.

"I, uh… I'm sixteen. Turning seventeen in, in about a month," he answered truthfully, hoping that this wasn't going to be a problem. He knew the man was several years his senior, but it wasn't like he was underage or anything, not for matters concerning marriage, or other, various things. He watched as a sardonic, almost self-deprecating smirk formed on the man's face, Bill shaking his head lightly.

"I see. Not as young as you look, that's a plus. Anyway, this was fun, but I'm tired. Think I'll attempt to sleep again, since someone kept me up last night stargazing," he said, a more genuine smirk rising on his face. Dipper smiled hesitatingly back, not quite sure what else to do. Bill then moved, leaning close to change the manacles around, taking the ankle ones away as he stood and stretched. Dipper watched as the man noticed the bloody shirt on the ground and picked it up, carrying it to a pile that was near the bed without a word. Then the man shrugged off his long, yellow jacket and folded it over the edge of the bed, pulling the covers back and lying down to sleep. Dipper kept his eyes on the man's movements the entire way, still utterly unable to look away.

"Goodnight, Pine Tree," Bill murmured into his sheets, the sound a bit muffled.

"Goodnight, Bill," the boy replied, finding he liked the way the man's name rolled off his tongue. It was only the second time he had said it out loud, but he decided then that it wasn't going to be the last. He listened as the man settled down for the night, waiting until soft breathing filled the room again before lying down himself. He had only been up for maybe half an hour, but he was exhausted from the emotions he had felt.

He would never understand Bill. This had not changed. But maybe he didn't need to understand him. He just had to know him. Dipper saw now that the man hadn't meant anything by what he had done earlier. It had been his idea of a joke. It may have been in bad taste, but Dipper couldn't really fault him for it. And besides, that kiss they had just shared more than made up for it. Dipper's insides were still tingling from the sensations.

This wasn't good. He knew that, but it was hard to find it in him to care. Bill made him feel so much, so much more than he had ever felt before. Not even Wendy, the once proclaimed love of his life, had made him feel anywhere close to how Bill did. Bill was not a good man, he couldn't possibly say otherwise, but Dipper didn't really care about that either. He should, he knew he should, but he didn't. Oh what had Bill done to him? Dipper once knew right from wrong as clearly as he knew the sky above him. Now it was all muddled, confusing and mixed up. Pirates were no longer demons from hell, bad men could still do good things, and he wasn't as pure as he had always thought. Couldn't be, if he was falling in love with a man who murdered for fun.

Falling in love… Dipper let out a shaking breath at the thought, but had to admit that it fit. How else could he explain the feeling he had in his heart right then, the floaty, giddy feeling? This surpassed lust, he knew that. He was falling for Bill, and he was falling hard. Part of him wondered what would happened when he reached the ground. Would Bill be there, ready to catch him? Or would he hit the ground and shatter into a million pieces? Only time would tell, it seemed.

With that settled, Dipper closed his eyes and let the sound of soft breathing lull him into slumber, his arms crossed over his chest in an attempt to keep them warm. He'd definitely have to think on this more later, but he was tired, and he felt content at this moment. He didn't want to ruin it by over-analyzing everything.

When he woke the next morning, there was a blanket over him and a pillow beneath his head. Things that he definitely had not had when he had fallen asleep.

He didn't stop smiling for an hour.


	14. The Truth Will Set You Free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Happy New Year! Why am I posting a day early? I have some school things tomorrow and Sunday, so I wanted to post this today so I don't have to worry about it tomorrow. 
> 
> Anyway, this is a long chapter. The longest chapter in this story. It has over 10,000 words. So... yeah. Have fun. I apologize; there was nowhere I could break it up. On the plus side, this is a big chapter. Lots of questions will get answered. It's also... kind of dark. Especially near the middle. Please note that Dipper is kind of... breaking. He is not doing alright. I also wanted to mention that this chapter did not turn out... quite how I had wanted. There are a few parts that bug me, but I have no idea how to fix it. So, I hope you like it regardless. 
> 
> Also, if anyone wants to contact me about this story while not on AO3 or FF . Net, I do have a Tumblr. My URL is SpikeisAwesome456, so feel free to shoot me a question there, if you want any questions answered, since I'm more likely to answer that than comments. 
> 
> And that's it. Thanks once more to everyone who has left kudos or comments on this story. I just passed 400 kudos and that's... I have no words. Thank you for taking the time to read this story. I appreciate every one of you.
> 
> Enjoy!

Dipper could feel a small smile blooming on his face as he watched the pirate captain saunter around his quarters, the man's hips swaying as he went. He heard the words that the pirate was saying, but he wasn't really listening, focussed more on the movement of the man's hips. The man looked good, with his body relaxed and a peaceful look on his face. Dipper was still taken by his beauty every time he saw it. So damn beautiful, and the man knew it and made sure to flaunt it around him. Dipper was sure of it.

When the captain turned to look at him, that playful smirk on his face, Dipper could feel his heart stuttering. It was all he could do to smile back, hoping he didn't look like a complete fool. By the way the man's smirk widened, he wasn't quite sure if he managed, but he didn't mind. Bill teased him occasionally, but it wasn't really cruel. Not now.

It had been four days since he had moved into this room. Four days of longing looks, heated kisses, and sinful thoughts that he honestly shouldn't be having. The captain spent most of the day away, doing his duties as captain and head helmsman while Dipper stayed locked down here, but at night they spent hours with one another, as well as during lunch. And those hours were ones that Dipper looked forward to, the minutes of the days crawling as he waited for his captain to return.

It concerned him, sometimes, when he was alone. Concerned him how much he needed Bill. How much he craved his touch, his lips. During the day he would spend hours warring with himself, trying to remind himself just who Bill was, trying to get himself to see reason. But then Bill would come back. And any argument he had made against his infatuation would flea upon seeing that beautiful man and his soft smirk.

He had only been on this ship for a little over two weeks, yet he craved the captain like he had never craved anyone else. Every second in the man's presence caused fire to flood his veins while all thought fled from his mind. It was insanity at its finest. Bill drove him utterly mad, thoroughly bonkers. His presence alone could make Dipper's mind shut down completely, and his touch was like a burning flame. Like lightning striking him again and again. He wondered sometimes if Bill would burn him to ashes one of these days. Wondered if he would let him.

As he watched Bill saunter over to him, he tried not to feel the panic that threatened to destroy him, in moments like these. The panic that he was losing himself completely, that he was different than he used to be. He felt it so keenly in these quiet moments, when his heart was thumping and his blood was flowing. A panic, so piercing, would enter his heart and it was almost as maddening as Bill was. Because Dipper didn't want to think about this anymore. Bill made him happy. Made him feel not as completely destroyed about this whole situation. He wasn't ever going to leave this ship, so why did it matter that he was different than who he used to be? What difference did it make? There was no use panicking, no use feeling self-hatred, because it wasn't like any of this mattered. Bill, for want of a better word, _owned_  him. So he shouldn't feel bad for doing what was best for himself. Right?

"You know, I'm starting to think you just don't like me, Pine Tree. You never listen to a word I say. Makes a guy think you're just not interested," Bill's voice claimed, a pout in the words, cutting through the silence of the room. Dipper looked up at Bill with a sheepish grin, noticing the man was standing right over him.

"S-sorry Bill. I was just… thinking," he grimaced, shrugging lightly and hoping the man wasn't too offended. He heard Bill let out a 'humph' of annoyance, before feeling a body collapse onto his lap, forcing his arms to wrap around that impossibly warm torso as the man practically draped himself over him. It was almost comical, a man as tall as Bill scrunching himself to fit on Dipper's lap, but Dipper didn't really mind. As long as Bill kept most of his weight on the ground and not on his legs, it wasn't even that painful. And besides, this was not the first time the man had done this, since Dipper had a tendency to let his mind wander while people were talking to him, which Bill did not enjoy, so he had gotten mostly used to this by now. Bill was very tactile, seeming to thrive on touch. It was odd, coming from a pirate, but then Bill always had been a bit odd. Dipper didn't mind it much. He liked touching the man.

"What were you thinking about?" The man questioned, wrapping his arms around Dipper's neck. The way the man was looking as him made him shiver, his mind almost blanking again, but before it could he made sure to mentally shake himself and shrug in response to the man's question.

"Oh, you know. Things…" He eluded, not really wanting to tell Bill about his panic and his fears. The captain didn't need to know. Probably didn't want to know. He'd just claim Dipper again, say how he wasn't ever going to leave, and Dipper didn't want that. While he had come to terms with it, it did still leave a bitter taste in his mouth. He still missed his twin desperately, after all. Bill tsked and shook his head, one of his hands migrating to his hair, running it through the unruly curls. It made Dipper shiver and lean in.

"Things," the pirate mimicked, still shaking his head. "So eloquent, aren't you, Pine Tree? Good thing I don't like you for your brains."

Dipper scrunched his face up in mild offense at that, sticking his tongue out at the man who was now petting him oh so softly. It felt amazing, but Dipper was doing his best to focus on his words.

"Not my fault you like to read dictionaries for fun. Can't even figure out half the things you say," Dipper shot back, thinking of all the complicated words the man in front of him liked to use sometimes. Like he was trying to make everyone else confused with his needlessly complicated way of speaking. Bill just tsked again.

"Well, it's not my fault that you're a puerile child who can't be bothered to learn the English language. After all, you were the one who was raised in an upper class household. I taught myself to read, so what is your excuse?" Bill rejoined, leaning forward to kiss Dipper's neck gently. Dipper could feel himself shiver at the contact, but he also couldn't help the stab of concern he felt at what the man had casually revealed about himself. Bill didn't speak much about his childhood, but occasionally he let something slip, such as the fact that he had been raised on the streets, or that he had spent most of his childhood starving. Learning the man had taught himself to read wasn't surprising, but it was still upsetting to hear. But he wouldn't mention it, not now. Not when Bill was trailing burning kissed along his neck.

"Hmm. Got me there," Dipper hummed absently, tilting his head in a way that would give Bill more access. He felt the man snort against his neck, before those deadly teeth nipped the skin gently, playfully. It elicited a gasp from the boy, making him arch his back in pleasure.

"Simpleton," Bill muttered, letting his left hand wander down Dipper's body, under his shirt- which Bill had meticulously cleaned for him the other day- to creep up his chest sensually. Dipper moaned, enjoying the warm hands that were doing such terrible, wonderful things to his body. It felt like a piece of heaven while trapped in hell.

In the past few days, they had not gone any farther than kissing and petting, and likely never would, if Bill's words were any indication. Apparently the man was not a big fan of anything that dealt with intercourse, which Dipper was honestly fine with. He was still wrapping his head around this new arrangement, he didn't think he could deal with anything more. Plus, he still wasn't quite sure how that would even work. He had a basic knowledge of how all that worked (thank you, Grunkle Stan, for the most mentally scarring hour of his life) but neither he nor Bill had all the required parts. It was baffling, but he wasn't about to ask Bill how it worked, so perhaps it was for the better that they kept it to just this. Plus, it wasn't like they were married or anything like that. And while he wasn't a woman, to sleep with a person before marriage was a bit improper.

This was still nice, though. Bill's hands were warm and incredible, inspiring the most amazing sensations in him. And his lips… oh, his lips. So wonderful, so brilliant. He loved them, loved this feeling.

As Bill began kissing up his neck, his trailing kisses reaching up to the side of his face, Dipper could feel that heat in his stomach mounting, causing him to squirm just a bit. A day or so ago he had had a little… accident, while Bill had been teasing him. It had been mortifying, especially when Bill had understood what had happened and had started cackling like a maniac. From then on he was determined to keep himself from repeating that situation, but it was so difficult when Bill was kissing him so wonderfully. Deciding that he wasn't going to wait for the captain to make his way over to his lips, Dipper turned his head and met Bill's lips with his own, causing a small hum to sound from the man.

"Impatient, Pine Tree?" The man muttered against his lips, sounding amused. Dipper shrugged, pulling the man closer to him, his hands drawing small circles on his hips.

"Always," he muttered back. Bill chuckled, before deepening their kiss, his tongue entering Dipper's mouth, making talk practically impossible after that.

They continued kissing for several minutes, the time slipping away as they lost themselves in the sensations. Dipper would feel worried that Bill didn't feel quite the same way he did, that he was just pulling him along on a string for fun, but he could feel that this wasn't a game to the man. He could tell from his words, from how desperately he touched him. How reverent he could be. For better or for worse, this was real. For both of them.

When Bill was tired of kissing, he pulled away and leaned his head against Dipper's chest, allowing his breathing to calm as he simply leaned against the boy. Dipper didn't mind, holding the man and running soothing fingers through his hair. He knew that Bill wasn't quite comfortable with all this, so he did his best to help the man through his doubts. If being gentle was what kept Bill from freaking out, he'd do it. Not to mention it helped him somewhat, too.

As he held the man, though, he couldn't help but wonder about him. About his life. About everything that made him who he was. He was such a contradiction and Dipper couldn't help but wonder why. He longed to ask, longed to hear what answers the man had for him, but he knew he couldn't. Knew that Bill would shut down, get upset, like he sometimes did when he accidentally shared a bit too much. Dipper didn't want that. Didn't want to make the man uncomfortable just to satisfy his own curiosity. So he'd live with his burning curiosity until Bill decided that he wanted to relay the information to him. If Bill ever decided, that was. He'd live either way. He had to. With an inaudible sigh, he let his mind wander as he ran his fingers through his unwashed hair and he tried to feel content with how things were.

"My men aren't very happy with this new arrangement of ours," the captain said a few minutes later, once he had calmed himself enough. Dipper looked down at the man on his lap and frowned.

"How so?" Dipper questioned, feeling a bit of concern fill his heart. Would the crew make Bill send him back to the brig? The boy wasn't quite sure how rules worked on a pirate ship, but from what Bill had said, the crew did have a say on what happened on the ship. So if they wanted him to be returned to the brig, Bill would not be able to do much to stop it, or else it would damage his standing as captain and possibly lead to him getting pulled from his rank. Bill, however, just shrugged casually.

"They think I'm going 'soft.'" The man scoffed, shaking his head in disapproval. "Had to nearly kill Roderick in order to prove that I am not, nor will I ever, be soft. He'll be in the infirmary for a while, so hopefully that will solve that," Bill hummed, lifting his left hand up to play with Dipper's shirt a bit. The boy was a bit disturbed by the words- or, if he was being truthful, a lot disturbed- but he was determined to not think of it that way. After all, it didn't matter that Bill spoke so casually of attempted murder. Dipper knew he wasn't a good man. He didn't need him to be a good man. He just needed him. And besides, it wasn't like the man he had hurt was an innocent. So it wasn't, technically, that bad.

"Well, here's hoping," the boy returned weakly, doing his best to smile at the man, but pretty sure he had failed.

Bill went on, oblivious to Dipper's discomfort, speaking about things that had happened on the ship over the span of the day. Dipper listened as carefully as he could, nodding at the appropriate times. Gradually the unease he felt faded, and he was able to enjoy the man on his lap without any guilt. Well, not as much guilt, at least.

After a few moments had passed, the boy began running his fingers through the captain's locks, silently reveling in the way the smooth strands slide against his hand. Bill didn't seem to mind, as he began humming lightly in contentment. Dipper had to admit that this felt nice, holding his- for lack of a better word- paramour while listening to him speak. Nothing else mattered but feeling this way. Feeling content after so many weeks of fear and pain. His back was finally healing, his shoulder wound was no more than a scar, he no longer was forced to stay in the depressing brig, and he had Bill.

"You've stopped listening again," a voice cut through his thoughts, a tinge of annoyance coloring them. Dipper smiled sheepishly down at the man, who was pouting up at him. The boy leaned and captured those lips with his own, humming his apology into the warm flesh. He still was not used to initiating anything, but it was getting easier each time Bill welcomed him instead of pushed him away. When he pulled back, the man was still pouting, but it wasn't nearly as pronounced.

"Don't think that gets you off the hook, Pine Tree," Bill warned. Contrary to his words, though, the man simply laid his head down on the boy's chest again, playing with his shirt collar. Dipper clicked his tongue lightly in thought, shifting his hold on the man to make it a bit more comfortable.

"Why do you keep calling me that?" He questioned, voicing a thought he had had for a few days. The man knew his name, yet still called him Pine Tree. It baffled the boy. Bill just shrugged.

"Habit, I suppose," was all the man would say, which Dipper accepted grudgingly. If he was being honest, he would admit he was not that fond of the nickname. It reminded him of before, when he and the captain had not been friendly, and it caused his heart to stutter unpleasantly. Guess he would just have to deal with it, though. He'd have to deal with a lot, with Bill.

Silence overtook them once more after that, their breathing even and relaxed as they simply were. Dipper couldn't help but wonder as they sat if this was wise. If they should be doing this. He tried not to think this, but it was hard not to. Especially in these silent moments, when his thoughts ran wild and the contentment he felt waned just a touch. Insecurity and reality would flood him and he'd wonder. Wonder if it really was wise to feel this way about a pirate. About a murderer. Bill wasn't a good person, he knew this, so why did he feel what he did? Should he be enjoying this as much as he did?

But as he looked down at the man, as he watched Bill lazily draw lines on his chest, he guessed it didn't really matter if he should or shouldn't. He did. He _did_. God, he did, and it was driving him insane. Two and a half weeks and he felt so much for a man who he never should have felt anything other than vitriol for in the first place. This man had starved him, had beat him, and then had cared for him. He didn't know what to feel about any of this, wanted to just enjoy these sensations, to enjoy Bill, but how could he when the man had done so much bad to him? When, on a whim, the man still could do bad things to him? There was an imbalance of power in their… their… _relationship_ , and Dipper knew that one day that it would topple them over. Could see it, logically. He tightened his grip minutely on the man he was holding and wondered if he would ever mess up so badly that this man would decide to just kill him. If Bill would do that to him. He liked to think he wouldn't, but he honestly didn't know. And it scared him that he didn't.

This was his life. And it would be his life for the foreseeable future. Trapped on a pirate ship, falling for a man who was, for all intents and purposes, insane. He felt himself lean down and kiss the man's hair, his lips lingering over the unwashed, salty smelling hair and hoped that things wouldn't crash around him. That Bill would feel the same way about him. That, for as long as he was trapped, Bill would care for him. That this wasn't just a passing fancy for the captain. He knew the captain wasn't a good man, that he was a murderer, but God, he didn't care. As long as this man cared for him too, as long as he could feel anything other than fear, nothing else mattered. He was Bill's, he was, and he hoped that that would be enough for the man.

Dipper could feel the man shifting on his lap, so he removed his lips and leaned back against the wall he was chained to. His manacles felt heavy in this moment, like a weight dragging him downward, towards an unknown destination. His breath stuttered in his lungs when he felt the captain trail a lazy finger over his right nipple, grasping the man's hip tightly as he tried to contain himself. To ground himself. His chains clanked as he moved his wrist and in the silence of the room it was nearly deafening.

Time passed like that, the two of them silent, sitting together, thoughts running rampant. After a while Dipper turned his face downward, facing the man that was invading his morality, and watched as emotions played on his face. Bill was a private person, but his face was like a window during these soft moments of theirs. A window that reflected everything the man felt, everything he usually kept hidden. It was fascinating and Dipper always found himself enchanted. As he watched this time, he couldn't help but notice the small frown that bloomed on the man's face, the crease between his eyebrows deep and furrowed. The same look that passed over his face occasionally, but never in this moment of theirs. Something was wrong. Dipper frowned to himself as he realized it, running a hand down the man's back.

"Are you alright?" Dipper asked, softly, part of him always feeling that if he was too loud things would break. He watched as Bill blinked up at him, visibly startled, before grinning. Dipper truly hated that grin.

"Whatever do you mean, Pine Tree?" Bill grinned back, sharp and false. Dipper had seen the man's true smile once or twice and this false imposter left the bitterest taste in his mouth. It was as false as this whole relationship of theirs was.

"I mean you look… I don't know, perturbed? I wanted to make sure you were alright. That's… that's all," he explained, shrugging lightly, like he didn't care. He did, though, of course he did. Wanted to help Bill because that's what you were supposed to do for the person you cared about, right? But he didn't want to appear suffocating. Didn't want Bill to get upset and leave. When Bill left, Dipper was by himself. And God did he hate the silence. Bill just chuckled, falsely, and looked at him. His eye was dark and Dipper wondered why.

"Perfectly fine, Pine Tree! Why on Earth wouldn't I be?" Bill practically demanded. Dipper shrugged again.

"I don't know. Because you like to hide things?" Because the man did. Dipper hated it with all of his heart, wanted to understand this man but how could he when the man purposely hid things? He knew it was unwise to say a thing like that, knew it would just make Bill defensive, but at the moment, part of Dipper just didn't care. He was a prisoner. He kind of had stopped caring a while ago. Bill snorted.

"I'm not the only one, Pine Tree," he retorted. Dipper could feel the man getting more and more rigid in his grasp, and wondered absently if he should stop. If he should apologize and move on. But he could tell something was bothering Bill, so he kept going. Wise, unwise. Did it truly matter?

"What do you mean by that?"

Bill looked up at him, eyebrow raised.

"Well, it's not like you show yourself often either, sapling."

"You know more about me than I know about you."

Bill's frown deepened, his eye boring into Dipper as a contemplative look entered it. Dipper stared calmly back.

"Not as such. What I know about you is that your mother was a Noble, your father was a drifter, you care more for your sister than is likely healthy… you like the stars, like to read and to draw, and you enjoy watching the ocean. And that's about it. But me, well, I've told you about myself. What I do. What I've done. I mean, I'm not a complicated person, Pine Tree. Not much more to me than that."

Dipper doubted that. Bill was likely the most complicated person he had ever met. That the captain was just a ruthless, bloodthirsty pirate didn't still well with him. Not just because he didn't want the object of his affections to be a monster, but because he honestly thought that Bill was more than just that. Hoped so, at least.

"I don't believe that," he voiced, wanting to say it. To let the man know he believed it. He could feel Bill stiffen even further in his hands, but he had expected that. Bill wasn't one for emotions, so this likely made him uncomfortable. He did acknowledge that Bill was right, though. He hadn't spoken much of himself, these past couple weeks. It wasn't like he had much reason to. Neither of them really knew much about the other, did they? Funny, he thought humorlessly.

"What else am I, then, Pine Tree?" And wasn't that a loaded question? What exactly was William 'Bill' Cipher? Hell if Dipper knew. He wanted to, which he supposed was the problem. Bitter curiosity never ended well with him.

"I… I don't know. But more than what you portray, I think," shouldn't say that. Shouldn't believe it. But he had. And he did. Bill didn't like it. Stiffened more. Upset, perhaps. Funny, Dipper had just wanted to help, yet all he had done was make things worse. Always made things worse. Story of his entire life, really.

"You're wrong," was all the man would say. Looked angry, like he was about to lash out. About to argue. Dipper really should keep his mouth shut. Shouldn't fan the flame like he always did. Should let Bill calm himself and keep his secrets.

"I don't think I am. I think you want me to be wrong, but… I'm not. Am I?"

Of course he wouldn't, though. Never could let a sleeping dog lie, could never let his curiosity die with the cat. In this moment he felt wrong inside, like reality wasn't real, and his brain was not connecting well to his mouth. Bill just stared blankly ahead, jaw clenched. Minutes passed like that, Dipper holding a man that was as stiff as a statue and five times as cold.

"Tell me, Pine Tree. How exactly did a boy like you manage to end up on a merchant sailing ship? Seems like a huge difference from a Noble lifestyle," Bill spoke minutes later, voice sounding pleasant but with a layer of frigid ice lying beneath. Dipper, for the first time, felt himself stiffen. He looked down at the man and saw a blank, expressionless mask staring back at him. So cold.

"How did you manage to end up a pirate?" Dipper shot back, his eye boring into Bill's. He had been expecting the man's question for a while, knew that the captain likely was curious about him, but he knew that that wasn't why he had asked right then. No, Bill had asked to hurt him. Because Bill was perceptive and he likely knew that story hurt. But Dipper was also perceptive. And he knew just what would hurt Bill back. Why was he hurting Bill? Dipper didn't know. Couldn't know.

"Had always been an aspiration of mine. Was always a fan of murder! Thought that being a pirate would be a lark, and boy had I been right!" The man grinned icily.

"Liar."

Silence overtook them again after that. He could feel Bill's heart beating against his chest, could feel the man's warm breath fan over his neck. He didn't take much comfort from these things, though. He felt cold, inside. Earlier, while kissing this man, he had felt like he was on fire. Now, with reality fluttering in through the shutters, a coldness was invading him against his will. Not like the coldness that had invaded in the brig, but like a darkness. An evil. Inside him. He didn't know what to make of it.

"You think you know me better than I know myself, Pine Tree?"

"I know I don't know you, Bill. I think that that's part of the problem."

More silence. But that was alright. Dipper was feeling off, wrong. He wanted to stuff these feelings away, wanted to put them in a little box and never feel them again like he always did with unpleasant emotions, but he found he couldn't. He felt… upset inside, looking at the man he knew but didn't know. Bill… he wanted to know Bill. Wanted to know if he was right to feel what he did about him. Needed to know if he truly was completely evil, or if he had a shred of decency in him. And in this moment, looking down at that mystery of a man… well, maybe he didn't regret opening Pandora's Box. These thoughts, these feelings… they had been eating at him from the moment he had first felt them, that night Bill had stolen a kiss like the thief he was. He had tried to push them down, had tried to just ignore it all, but they never truly went away. And he knew that he would go even more insane if he didn't voice them. Today, tomorrow, a week from then; it would have had to happen eventually. At least now it wouldn't hurt quite as badly if Bill decided to hate him again.

"Why should I tell you anything about myself? You're just a prisoner. Hate to break it to you, but you're nothing, Pine Tree. Nothing."

Cold words. Harsh words. Meant to hurt, meant to cut. They did. Oh, they did.

"Then why am I here? W-why did you even bother sparing my life?" Dipper questioned, his heart clenching. He wasn't hurt, he was just a bit upset. To be hurt would mean he hadn't expected the words. But… but he had. Had always expected them.

A pause. Dipper could feel the statue he was grasping tightly jerk, could see the marble features crack only briefly. To him, it looked like grief. Dipper wondered what the man was grieving.

"You interested me. Nothing more."

Flat. Not like the man usually sounded. Too false.

" _Liar,_ " he whispered. Knew it to be a lie. Had to be. Bill said nothing. Just stared straight ahead. Dipper didn't like that. Didn't like how cold this man felt. He removed one of his hands from the man's back and brought it up to his face, grasping it gently yet firmly. The man resisted him, but Dipper forced him to look up at him. Needed to see his face. Needed to see him.

"Liar," Dipper breathed again, looking into that blank eye. A crack, barely there but Dipper could see it. He could see pain in a single instant of time, and that was all he needed to see. He saw the man open his mouth to say something, likely a refute, but he refused to let him. Before the man could even get the first sound out, Dipper had jerked the man's face upwards whilst he descended downward, pressing his lips forcefully to unmoving ones. Pressed, pressed, and wouldn't stop pressing. Couldn't.

He felt Bill start, felt him try and jerk back, but Dipper did not let him. Clutched his hair, the soft strands tightly confined in his prison of fingers. Held him in place, held him pressed against his lips. It felt wrong, felt frigid and forbidding, but Dipper had to keep pressing. God, he had to keep pressing. Bill didn't move against him, did not press back. He simply sat there, unmoving. Dipper wanted to cry. He didn't quite know why. Dipper pressed harder, more forceful, darker. He hated it, hated what he was doing, but he had to keep going. He didn't know why, but… but he had to.

Just as he was about to pull away, just as he was about to give up searching for whatever it was he was desperately trying to find, heart crumbling like fragile glass, he felt lips pressing back. It started slow, but soon Bill was giving as much as Dipper took. Desperate for something neither of them could name, desperate for something to destroy whatever was inside them. He could feel Bill shaking, could feel the man move his legs so he was straddling him, could feel the man pressed so close to him. It was all Dipper could do to keep hold, hands shifting to lithe hips. He could feel tears fall down his face and he wondered why they were falling. What exactly was he sad for? H-he had Bill. That was all that mattered. Right?

"My parents were murdered by pirates," Dipper whispered up at the man whose lips had parted from his briefly, who was arched over him as he straddled his legs. He could feel Bill stiffen, but he had to say this. Something… something told him he had to say this.

"When I was fifteen. W-we had been visiting our grandparents, mother's parents. I had been out, out on the town, looking in the book shop. When the screams came from outside, I rushed out and saw fire. Everywhere, fire," he breathed, eyes widening as he remembered the day.

"It was a-a nightmare. I ran, ran back to my grandparents’ house, needed to find my family. My sister. I hadn't known, then, what had caused the fire. Had only seen the flames. Hadn't… hadn't realized that the flames had been caused by something," Dipper paused, taking a shaky breath. He didn't know why he was sharing this, didn't know why he was speaking words that were vital to him, that were so close to his heart and soul. Words he never thought of, never spoke of. But he felt he had to. _Had to_. In this moment, Bill looking down at him, darkness shrouding him since the lantern had long since burned out, Dipper had to speak these words. Needed to remember them, needed to… needed to not forget. God, he was forgetting. He was forgetting _everything_.

"I learned soon, though. On my way back, to the house, I had run into a man. Dressed in ragged and tattered clothing, a bandana on his head and a vile grin on his face. I had never seen one in person, before, but I knew that this man was a pirate. He tried to grab me, but I ran. I-I was always quick.

"I ran to the house faster then. Knew that I had to find my family. Mabel..." his breath hitched, eyes closing as he began to shake. "I had to find Mabel. M-my sister.

"I reached the house soon and it was… it was on fire, like everything else. Burning, blackened and charring. I ran inside. K-knew I had to. Knew they were in there. Had to be." He felt Bill jerk slightly, but he didn't stop to wonder why. Couldn't stop. He no longer could control his words, they were spilling out, tumbling from his lips like poison gas. He wanted to stop, wanted to never reveal his heart to this man, this man who didn't even care for him, but he just couldn't. It hurt too much to keep inside any longer. He couldn't stuff it back inside his little box now that he had begun. He couldn't.

"Inside the house I ran down the halls and went t-to the parlor. Knew… knew they were in there. Had to be… had to be in there. I ran in, mouth covered by my sleeve, begging for my parents to hear me, to answer. I-I didn't get far i-into t-the room before… before tripping… t-tripping o-on…" A sob came from his throat, his voice shaking as he tried to say the words. No… "My mother." A whisper, so soft even he could barely hear it. But he didn't care. He felt so wrong inside, like he was shattering.

"Face blank, e-eyes dull. No life in them, no life… no life. I screamed, I begged her to please get up, I-I needed her to get up, but she didn't. And when I looked next to her, when I saw m-my… m-my f-father…" He trailed off. Couldn't say what he had done. Couldn't admit to how he had vomited, away from his parents, how he had cried like a child, the acrid scent of smoke invading the room. Never wanted to think of the panic and pain he had felt as cruel reality had sunk in, as his mind refused to wake from the nightmare he had found himself in. God, he had wanted to wake up. He still did.

"T-they were gone. M-my grandparents too. B-but not Mabel. Not... not Mabel," he whispered, eyes opening and looking at the golden citrine that was staring intently at him. He felt lost as he looked into it.

"I-I went to find her. Had to, had to find her. S-she was all I had left. She had to be alive, _she had to,_ " he stressed, needing Bill to believe him. Mabel had been alive, she had to have been. She couldn't have been dead. He had known she couldn't have been dead, please God she couldn't have been dead.

"I ran through the house, up the stairs, dodging fire, s-screaming for Mabel. My lungs hurt, b-but I had to find her, _I had to find her_." His heart was pounding, he was shaking. His eyes were locked with Bill's single one, his hands gripping the man's hips tightly, bruising. The man didn't wince.

"Her room. Second door to the left, across the-the hall from mine. Burst in, screaming. She had to be… she had to be in there. I looked and looked, but I couldn't see her. Was about to-to move on, look elsewhere, when I heard… heard something. From the clothes bin, along the back wall. Ran to it. Opened it. And she was there. _Alive,_ " Dipper gasped out, a tear falling from his left eye. He would never be able to describe the complete and total relief he had felt at seeing her, alive. The bone melting, heart stopping, gut punching feeling of relief. So he didn't even bother trying.

"S-she looked so small. S-so scared. Didn't even n-notice me, her hands covering her ears, her eyes shut tight. I-I touched her lightly and she screamed." It had hurt him. Seeing her eyes so wide, so scared, so hurting. She hadn't seen him, then, hadn't known he was even there. Another tear slipped down his face as he remembered the expression that was forever burned into his memory.

"But we couldn't stay there. The fire… I could hear it getting louder. Closer. W-we had to go," he whispered, shifting. Bill was still staring at him. No words. No expression. No actions. Just… staring. Dipper stared back.

"I had grabbed her. H-had to, I had to! She screamed, and screamed, and _screamed_ , but I had to get her out. Had to…" A sob came from his throat, tears slipping passed his eyelids. Mabel had been so frantic, so hurting. He had hurt her by grabbing her, but he had been afraid. They had to go. The smoke was thick, the room was smoldering, about to catch aflame. He didn't have time to be… to be gentle, they needed to _go_.

"I remember… remember speaking at her. Frantic words. Begged her to stop fighting me, begged her to come with me. I-I was crying. Sobbing. I needed her to stop screaming. Needed her to… to come with me." He shook, tears now steadily falling down his face. His eyes never left Bill's face.

"E-eventually… eventually she listened. S-still crying, s-still upset, but she knew it was me. I grabbed her hand and we ran. Down the halls, past the growing patches of-of fire. I-into t-the parlor." He hadn't wanted to bring them back there, but it was the only way out. The staircase was right next to the room, the only way out was through it. The room had been on fire then, but they only needed to go through quickly. It shouldn't have been a problem.

"M-Mabel fought me, s-screamed when w-we tried to go in there. T-thought it was because of-of my p-parents, but soon found out i-it was because a p-pirate was in there. S-she had rendered o-one unconscious, w-while escaping." Because Mabel had been there, when their parents… she had seen it, seen all of it. Dipper didn't even know the full extent of what she had seen that day, she refused to ever say.

"T-the pirate… he-he had laid back, hiding. It w-wasn't until we were nearly out of the room that he pounced. Caught m-me by surprise. Crowded us back, back against the fire, blocked the e-exit, fire glinting on his blade. W-we were trapped. C-couldn't escape. Could never escape," he gasped again, remember that feeling. The same feeling he had felt for over two weeks now, that helplessness, that panic. Trapped, trapped, endlessly, always, trapped.

"I-I t-thought… I thought that we… that we were g-going t-t-to _die,_ " he whispered, voice hoarse, more tears falling down his cheeks. "Thought that was it. I-I think part of me wanted it." Oh so soft, so quiet he barely made any sound, a dark admission he never spoke of. But Bill stiffened above him, and Dipper knew he had heard. Could see it in the brief flash of emotion in that stony eye. He kept going.

"B-but I could feel Mabel… Mabel shivering behind me. C-could feel her-her hand shaking. And I… I knew I couldn't stop. S-she needed me. She _needed me_." That had been enough. Feeling her pressed against his back, so afraid, so terrified, had taken him from his thoughts of death and reminded him why he needed to keep living. His parents were dead, his grandparents were dead, but not Mabel. She was alive and she needed him to be alive for her. So he would. Even though he hurt so badly inside, he would stay alive. For her.

"S-so I looked for a weapon. Something that would make the p-pirate leave us alone. I s-saw then the fire p-poker, to our right, kicked f-from its usual home. I-I had barely thought as I led us over to it. As I bent down w-while the p-pirate was distracted, i-ignoring the warm metal. I-I held the poker and-and waited for an o-opening. The fire… it made something fall, in the house. The pirate started, p-pausing in the disgusting words he had-had been spewing, l-looking at the f-fire around us. I had-had my opening. As he, as he turned back to us, I took the poker and jammed it into his right eye. The p-pirate s-screamed and tried to salvage the eye, but I never would figure out if-if he did or not. As soon as he pulled back, I had taken Mabel and had _run_." And run. And run. He hadn't stopped, had fled out of the house, into the woods, away from the fire, away from the pirates. Mabel had struggled to keep up with him, but he had dragged her along. They had to keep moving. Had to keep going.

"We ran for a while. Into the woods, d-dodging trees. We didn't stop until the stench of fire was gone. Until I could no longer smell b-burning flesh. Only then did we stop. Only then… only then did we rest." He closed his eyes once more, a bitter smile rising on his lips. "Mabel collapsed beside me. Didn't move, didn't say anything. H-her eyes were dark. Dead. S-she usually was so full of life. But not then. And not again for a long while." It had killed him, seeing his sister so destroyed. But he hadn't known what to do to help her. How to make it better. He hadn't even learned the basics of what happened that night for several months, how could ever have hoped to sooth the pain she felt inside?

"W-when the scent of smoke finally cleared, w-when w-we thought it was-was safe, we went back to town. Had to, had nowhere else to go," he whispered, closing his eyes tighter. "The town was destroyed. The sh-shops and h-houses charred or collapsed. A-a naval ship was in the harbor, which w-we went to. They sent us with a man, who asked us a-about our remaining family. I had… I had remembered our Great Uncle, from our father's side. H-he was a sea merchant, b-but they said they would find a way to get a letter to him. A month later, he arrived. And he took us with him."

Dipper opened his eyes then, looking back up into Bill's. The man still had no expression, not a single emotion passed through his eye. Dipper could feel more tears fall from his eyes, his breathing uneven as he tried to calm his mind down. Silence prevailed after that, thick and invading. Dipper's mind was blank as he shook with emotion.

"Why did you tell me this?" A voice asked, lowly, softly. Dipper shivered, not really sure what to say.

"You asked," was all he could think of to say, to defend himself. He honestly didn't know why he had told. Why he allowed himself to tell this vital story to a man he never should have told it to. He could feel Bill jerk beneath his fingers and he tightened his grip. Didn't want to let go, didn't want this whole thing to have been a mistake. But then Bill let out a barely audible sigh and sat back, his hips pressing against Dipper's, his face no longer high above but rather right in front. Dipper could feel warm breath fan across his lips and let out a shudder. Warm lips pressed softly against his and he let them. Moved softly back. Needed to. Shouldn't want this man, shouldn't want his comfort, shouldn't feel this for the same kind of monster who had destroyed him so utterly a year before. But he did. Something was wrong with him, and he did.

"I suppose I did." A whisper breathed across his tongue. Soft, barely heard. Dipper gripped his hips tighter and pressed his lips harder, wanting to feel the sick pleasure this man gave him. Didn't want to feel the death he constantly felt inside. The rot, the plague. Just wanted to forget yet he could never forget. Dared not to forget for what would happen to him if he did. He wondered, then, what his parents would think if they could see him now. Wondered if he'd disgust them. He disgusted himself.

"Whose ship was it?" The man questioned softly, looking at him intently. Dipper shuddered as the name rose in his head, a name that had haunted his mind for months despite the fact he had never met the man.

"Captain Jackson Hallow. Known for pillaging rich port towns and leaving nothing but ashes in his wake," the boy informed, a soft scowl rising on his lips, which brushed against Bill's with every words he uttered. He could feel the man nod slowly against him.

"Captains the ship Dark Destiny. Yes, I know Jackson," Bill said, no inflection in his words. Dipper was unsure how he felt about the words.

Silence overcame them again after that, both thinking about the words that had been spoken. They stayed pressed against one another for long minutes, neither pulling away, neither pushing away. Dipper could feel Bill pressed against him, but he didn't feel anything inside. He was so cold, his heart was freezing in his chest. The statue he held did not help. Just made things worse. But he couldn't bear to let go. Didn't dare.

"I killed a man," that soft voice claimed minutes later, the barest hint of space separating the two bodies. Dipper looked at that dark, citrine eye, and waited, wondering where the man was going with that. Bill did not disappoint.

"Before I was born, my mother was a Noble. Lived in a grand house. Never wanted for anything. Had the world handed to her on a silver platter. But, sixteen, fanciful, she disdained her life of restrictions and longed for more. When she met an Egyptian man in the lower levels, dark and mysterious, she fell. He offered her the freedom she longed for and she bought it," the man told, voice a whisper. Dipper had to strain his ears to hear.

"Her parents did not approve. Forbade her from ever meeting with the man. She rebelled, and ran away with the man. Brought with her gold and jewels, what they'd need to live. Thought they'd get married when they'd reached a decent town far from her family. She was a fool, though. He brought her to a hotel, had his way with her, and was gone when the sun rose the next morning, along with the gold and the jewels. She returned home, but they wouldn't take her back. Called her sullied and ruined," a soft laugh, barely more than a huff of air, bitter. "Sent her to the streets. Sure got her freedom there!" Another laugh, darker, more manic. Dipper tightened his grip. Remembered dark words this man had uttered to him once, little over a week before. Seemed he finally found out why his words had affected the man so.

"She hadn't known then, but soon she would find out that the man had left her a present after all. A child. Unwanted, unwelcome, but very much there. When I was born nine months later, she was barely even able to survive the burden. But she did. And she took me with her, caring for me begrudgingly." Dipper felt the man move, felt him drift closer. The boy let his iron grip of lithe hips go and wrapped his arms instead around the man's lower back, allowing them the closeness they both desired. He could feel a heart beating against his own, frantic and pounding.

"But she never loved me. Fed me, looked out for me, but she didn't have it in her to love. Not anymore. Wouldn't have known I was even the man's son, had I not had his eyes and his darker skin. That was the only reason she kept me, she always said. Had I not had his features she would have dropped me into a well." A pause. A warm sigh against his neck.

"She hated me. Despised me. We slept under bridges, in alleyways… behind bins. Wherever we could find shelter. She spent most of the day and night away, attempting to get enough to feed the two of us, but when she was around she'd glare at me. Like it was my fault we were living in the streets. To her, it likely was. It was always my fault." Dark words, dark tone. Dipper had never heard the man sound so serious. Perhaps this was what the man was like when he wasn't putting on airs. When he wasn't hiding behind insanity and madness. Dipper wasn't sure what he thought of it.

"She used to call me a demon. Said she saw evil in me. I had tried to show her I wasn't. I smiled, I grinned. Acted happy, acted good. Wore yellow to counteract that darkness she always said she saw. Never worked, but I tried. Can't say I hadn't tried," the man stressed, strain in his voice. Like he was forcing the words out, like he hated them.

"She died when I was ten. Illness. Went to sleep one night, never woke up. I stayed by her side for days. Just sat. Didn't cry, didn't scream. Just… sat. Waited. When the body started to decompose, I left. Never looked back.

"I was on my own then. Had to look out for myself. Growing up I had learned how to be quick, how to thieve. Mother had never approved, said it was a sin, but I hadn't cared. God didn't care for me, why should I care for his laws? On my own, I did what I had to to survive. Didn't want to die, didn't want to give in." The man began to shake. Anger or grief, Dipper didn't know. Bill's face was hidden in his neck, his words slightly muffled, so Dipper couldn't see. He rubbed soothing circles onto a warm back either way. Was unable to do anything else.

"Two years passed. Long years, cold years. Hated it on those streets, but I had little other choices. Inside I grew colder. Could feel it inside me like an illness, like a disease. I had welcomed it. Still do. Kept me alive then and it keeps me alive now. I moved from place to place, grinning all the while. Met all sorts of interesting people as I went, hardly any ever looked at me twice. But that was fine. I didn't need them to look at me. Just needed their money." Another pause. A deep breath.

"But then, one day, I had been in an alley. Things had been bad for a while, my mind muddied and my thoughts dark. I had been on high alert for months, eyes darting back and forth, an itch under my skin that never could be satisfied. When a man followed me from the streets into that alley, and had called to me, I had felt my heart clench and my mind blank. When he cornered me against the wall, saying such disgusting things, I had felt my fingers splay." Bill grinned, then, sharp and deadly. Dipper felt it against his neck, and it caused him to hold his breath. "And when he tried to touch me, tried to force me back against the wall, I fought back. I was thin, sickly, but I was fast. Had to be, to survive. I saw a knife on the man's belt and had grabbed it. And then I plunged it into his heart. And I did it again. And again. And again. Never stopped, kept going until he was little more than a bloody pulp under my hands, until there was nothing left. Until the demon inside of me was satisfied. Oh, it was exhilarating!" Dark laughter. The head that was leaning against his neck left after that, the man's head thrown backwards, golden eye closed.

"I left then. Blood on my hands, on my clothes, yellow tinged red. I was grinning and I didn't stop. Not until that night. Not until I had fallen to my knees and had wept. For what I had done, for what I was. It hadn't surprised me, though. Had always had a darkness inside of me, Mother had always seen it. Had always called me a demon. Wasn't until that night, though, that I recognized it inside myself," Bill paused here, his breath catching as he slowly opened his eye, his grin still dark and manic. Dipper stared at the man, unable to feel anything. His heart was still frozen, but distantly he could feel grief. For who, he didn't know.

"I had fled then. Onto a boat, a stowaway. Had needed to be far from that alley, far from the blood that would never leave my hands. I had used to think of myself as good, had once wanted to be good. But I wasn't. God had forsaken me, if there was even a God in the first place. On that ship I had hoped to find a new beginning. To find a way to reconcile the demon I was to the person I had always wished to be." Laughter, then, high-pitched and insane. Dipper tightened his grip on the man's back, looking into a manic and depraved eye. The madness was back.

"But that would never happen! I'd never get to try and expel the demon in me, because three weeks after boarding that ship, they were raided by pirates. And I was found. Oh, I fought, tried to escape, but I was too weak! They dragged me into their brig and they had their way with me! Ha! Did such horrible things to me! Ha-ha!" Bill laughed, head thrown back, eye wide and manic, a brokenness in them that made something inside Dipper break. Made the boy gasp, shudder as he watched this man come undone. He understood the man's meaning. Understood what had happened to him. Perhaps now he finally understood why the captain had stopped those pirates that first day.

The boy watched as the captain laughed, his frozen heart jolting with grief, more pronounced now than before. He raised his hand and gently grasped the man's face, wanting to somehow ground him. It did manage to make him stop laughing, but it didn't make that destroyed look leave his eye. Didn't make his frozen grin go away. Dipper hated it.

"I don't think I hated as much as I hated in those days," Bill whispered, grin still stretched wide on his face. "Oh, what they had done to me. Such terrible things. I gave up restraining what was inside me, then, because there was no point anymore. I was a monster, a demon. A freak. A murderer. And as I broke free of my prison, as I set fire to that ship and slashed the captain's throat, I grew to _love_  it. I took a row boat and rowed back to shore, letting the flames burn high behind me. Once I was back on land, I found myself the first pirate ship I could and joined their crew as a cabin boy. Became the monster I had always been, embraced it. And oh, was I good," He chuckled, dark. Dipper could feel the man drawing away, but he held tight. Didn't want the man to leave. Didn't want him to go away and leave him here alone. The man didn't try and leave again.

They sat together in silence for long moments after that. No words, no sounds. There was nothing either could think to say. Dipper was at a loss, his heart cold and aching. He could feel Bill shaking against him, more fragile than the man had ever allowed himself to be around the boy, and it scared him. It was unnatural, and part of him hated it. The other part felt overwhelmed that such a man as this would allow himself to crack in front of him. Dipper didn't think that Bill had broken completely, not like he had during his tale, but it was still more than he had ever expected.

When he felt lips meet his again, he did not move. Did not respond, not at first. Was unsure if he should or not, was unsure if he should still care for a proclaimed murderer. But the lips were warm, and he was so cold. So he eventually moved back, letting his tongue slid against the man's, arching up to press his body closer. He could feel warmth trickling into him as they kissed, felt like he could breathe again.

"You killed your father, didn't you?" He heard himself ask moments later, once he had pulled back and was simply leaning against the man. He could feel Bill stiffen, and part of him regretted asking, especially so soon after the captain had revealed as much information as he had.

"Yes," the man breathed back, words sharp and harsh. "He was not my father, but I found and killed the man who had impregnated my mother and who shared my name completely, before I changed my surname to better suit myself. William Runihura, a con man I found on the coast, wooing another woman out of her money. I was fifteen, but it didn't stop me from gutting the man, when he couldn't even recall my mother's name. Did the same to my mother's parents, later that year. They had refused to acknowledge me as their grandson, not that I wanted them to, so I tied them up and burned their house to the ground with them inside. I didn't regret it, and I still don't."

Dipper had expected the words. Had known for over a week that this man had killed his family. It still made him shudder unpleasantly, though. With nothing else to do, he pressed his lips back against Bill's. He hated himself for doing it, hated himself for wanting this man, but he had long since come to terms with it. Something was wrong with him that he wanted this man. He understood that. Why deny the truth he knew? Why deny himself something that made his heart feel less broken and rotted? So the man had murdered his father and grandparents. So what? It didn't change how he felt.

They kissed for a while after that, the gentle press the only sensation Dipper allowed himself to feel. As time passed, he could feel his heart defrosting, could feel the dark atmosphere fading. He still felt raw from revealing his heart, but he no longer felt the darkness inside him. He was sure it was still there, lurking behind the curtains, but he wasn't about to go searching for it. He had told Bill about his parent's death. He had listened to Bill tell about how exactly he had become a pirate. And he was still alive and he was still partially sane. That was all he could focus on. That was all he allowed himself to focus on.

Eventually the two of them shifted, Bill removing himself from his lap, but not leaving. Instead, they swapped positions, Bill sitting against the wall while Dipper leaned against him, lips pressed against one another's. Dipper didn't complain. He liked being held, feeling warm arms around him, soothing him. They did not move for the rest of the night, Dipper simply resting his head on Bill's chest while their legs tangled beneath them once they had finished kissing. After a while they spoke softly to one another, words of no consequence, words of nothing and everything. Tired, nonsense words that would be forgotten come morning, words that had no meaning and yet all the meaning in the world.

Eventually Dipper fell asleep, the feeling of soft fingers carding through his hair lulling him. He'd think things through later. Right then, he was tired and his heart hurt. So he slept. And, for the first time in a year, he didn't dream of fire or death.

He dreamed, instead, of himself and Bill watching the ocean together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. I was rereading this chapter and realized I don't really explain why Bill was upset (prior to Dipper's trying and failing to comfort him). Basically, Bill is starting to feel for Dipper and it's freaking him out. Dipper's prying made him kind of close off. Just so you all know.


	15. Against the Tide We Struggle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Hope you all had a good week. :-)
> 
> New chapter! Yay. I'll be honest, I'm not so sure on this one... It's in Bill's POV, so at least you all get to see a bit into Bill's mindset during all of this, but... This chapter marks the beginning of my writer's block, so it's... not the best. Same with the next two. I did my best, but... eh. I think my least favorite part of this story is how fast things are going, in the story. But, then again, they are under a bit of a deadline... So, I guess it makes sense? Eh. Whatever.
> 
> I have some good news! I managed to finish chapter 17! I estimate that I have no more than three more chapters to write, so this story should end up with 19-20 chapters total, and over 100,000 words. Which is a record for me. 
> 
> Oh! And I added a new character in this chapter. I had considered making an original character, but thought it might be better to have a character people already sort of know, even if he's not canon. So, I added Tad Strange. Hadn't wanted to, but I felt it would be best to have Bill interact with his crew. Fun Fact: Quartermasters had as much as, if not more, power than the captain on a pirate ship. At least according to the research I did. Who knew? 
> 
> Also, the title of this chapter comes from the song In the Water, by Anadel. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Bill Cipher looked down at the boy he held in his arms, his fingers running through unruly curls. He could feel soft, warm breaths fan across his neck, could feel a single heartbeat against his own. As he watched, he couldn't help but marvel at how small this boy seemed. He knew the child couldn't be more than a handful of inches shorter than him, and not all that much slighter, yet in this moment he seemed small. Minuscule. Elfin. Like he would break if Bill moved the wrong way. Like he was fragile.

Bill let out a breath of air, leaning back against the wall he was pressed against, cradling the boy closer to his chest. He heard Dipper let out a soft, sleepy sigh as he settled against him, hand clutching the collar of his shirt.

He had told him about his childhood. Had spoken words that he had never told a single living person before. Had trusted this boy, this child who had already betrayed him once. And he didn't even regret it.

He was, in no uncertain terms, completely and utterly screwed.

Bill closed his eye, listening to the boy breathe, and had to wonder how exactly this had happened. How had he allowed himself to trust this child? This was not supposed to happen. He was Captain Bill Cipher, one of the deadliest and most ruthless pirates on these seven seas. He didn't have flights of fancy, didn't indulge in his 'softer' side. Didn't care for anyone but himself. So how, on Earth, had he allowed himself to… to _fall_  for a child?

He was not a good man. He knew that. Had known that since he was twelve and had felt such glee as causing the light to leave that man's eyes. Since he had set fire to a pirate ship right before he had rowed away on the only remaining rowboat, damning an entire crew to death. Since he had begun his life as a pirate, grinning at the death he doled out. He knew he wasn't good, that there was no good inside of him. Knew it like he knew the sky was blue. Yet this boy made him want to be better. Made him want, period. He had never wanted a person, before. People had never impressed him, too flawed and boring for him to even bother with. Yet this boy wasn't. And he wanted. God, did he want.

It concerned him greatly. That he could feel that way for a person who wasn't even out of puberty. That this boy was making him want to be good. Making him want to be better than he could ever hope to be. For no other reason than the fact that he hated the look the boy got in his eyes when Bill spoke of his crimes. The disgust. The hatred. The fear. It had once amused him to see, yet now it pained him. And that concerned him.

There wasn't much he could do, though. He had tried. Had tried to force the boy from his mind, to not care. To feel indifferent. Yet he couldn't. And after his punishment, after the lashes he had dealt, he had felt that horrid regret. So fierce that it had driven him down to the boy's previous cell to try and fix him. Fierce enough to force him to keep returning, day after day, even though the boy hadn't wanted him to. It had been torture, seeing the child each day, feeling the way he cringed at his touch, feeling his hatred. He hadn't known why it had bothered him so much, just that it had.

It had messed with his head. Seeing the boy, so small, so broken. Seeing him cringe from him. God, for the first time he had actually wanted to make it up to the boy. And he had hated it. Hated it so much. It had built in him, that disgust, that anger.

And then, when the boy had spoken back to him, when he had tried to claim he wasn't his… that he didn't own him… such a possessiveness had risen in him. Possessiveness he hadn't ever felt about a person before. And he had needed to show the boy that he was his. Had needed… had just needed. So much, he had needed. And then, in response to his tumultuous emotions and thoughts, he had pressed his lips against the boy's, the first time he had ever initiated such a contact, and it hadn't been nice. Hadn't been good. It had, instead, been forceful, and cruel. A kiss of possession, a kiss of ownership. He had just meant it to show the boy that he was his the only way he knew how. Had wanted, in that moment, to break the child's will. Had wanted to infect the boy like the boy had infected him. He hadn't thought that it would affect him like it had. Hadn't thought that he would come to regret it, his actions reminding him so terribly of what those pirates had done to him.

But it had. Of _course_  it had. Bill should have been used to it, by then. Should have known. He knew the child would hate him for what he had done, and for reasons he hadn't wanted to examine, he knew that he didn't want that.

Taking the boy stargazing had seemed like a good idea, at the time. A way to apologize without actually apologizing. He had seen the hatred and fear in the child's eyes when he went down there, and he hadn't blamed him. But the boy had been so eager to be free. To taste the salt air on his tongue. To feel the breeze in his hair. So eager that he had agreed to spend time with Bill just so he could have the illusion of freedom.

And then things had gotten weird. Like a spell had been placed over the two of them. Like time had stopped and the world was holding its breath. That child had looked so beautiful in that moment, under the stars, eyes wide with rapture and bliss. Like he had gotten everything he had ever wanted. Like it was the greatest relief he had ever felt. Bill had been spellbound just looking at him. And then, the way he spoke… so passionate, so enthused… oh, he had been enthralled. Utterly and completely enthralled. Watching the sky with his Pine Tree, feeling that cool hand pressed against his warm one… it had been so surreal to him. Holding the child's hand had been even weirder, but he had found that he had liked it.

But it couldn't have lasted forever. Nothing ever did. The sky had grown lighter, and he had known it was time to go. It had hurt, seeing the panic on the boy's face. Hurt in a way he hadn't known he _could_  hurt. Listening to the boy beg had been torture. He had once wanted it, wanted to see the proud child stooped so low, but it hadn't been what he had thought. Nothing about the boy had ever been what he had thought.

He understood it, though. The boy's pleas. He had spent an extended amount of time in the brig of a pirate ship, after all. He knew what it was like, down there. But he had no idea, at _all_ , just what it was that had possessed him to invite the child into his own quarters. His own private sanctuary.

Bill sighed again, extracting his fingers from the boy's hair and running them through his own. That had been the beginning of the end, really. He had kissed the child again, for no other reason than he could, because he had wanted to. And then, after he had woken to the boy staring at him, like a hawk, he had wanted to do it again. Deeper, more forceful. Had wanted it so badly. It had scared him, if he was being honest. So he hadn't given in to his unwanted desires, had instead decided to tease the boy. Had tried to hide his tumultuous emotions behind a mask of indifference like he always did.

He honestly hadn't expected it to bother the kid. Truly. Yes, the boy had been looking at him strangely, and he had known he had to have felt something, but Bill had no idea the extent of the kid's feelings. How could he have? Just a day previous he had called him a monster, wishing him to be sent to Davy Jones'. How could he have ever guessed that the child- so young, so naive- could have wanted him? But the boy, inexplicably, had. And oh, how that had messed with him. Had made him feel, had made his cold and dead heart clench. So he had apologized, something he never did, had patched the boy up, and had kissed him, to satisfy that feeling in his heart. And oh, how _good_  it had felt. How right.

It was sick. How much he had enjoyed it. Disgusting. It had made his heart beat fast, had made his veins burn. He still hadn't felt any stirrings in his gut, like he had always heard, but it hadn't mattered. The pleasantness that had filled his heart had been enough. It was awful, like losing a part of himself. Yet he couldn't stop. Every day, whenever he saw the boy, he had felt the need to be near him. To be touching him. Always, always touching him. Had needed it like he had never needed anything before.

Bill looked down at the boy in his lap, at the boy who had caused all these emotions, and knew he was lost. Had been lost from the first moment he had seen him. God, he had told this boy about his childhood, hadn't he? Had revealed something he rarely thought about, let alone spoke about. He had been prepared- so, so prepared- for _Dipper_  to push him away. For _Dipper_  to look at him with disgust and hatred. And yet the boy hadn't. Had just looked at him with those too wide, too brown eyes and had kissed him so sweetly. And now he was lost. So utterly lost. There was just one problem.

This child didn't belong here. Bill knew this. Could see it in the boy's eyes, saw the listlessness and the desperation. The fear and the resignation. Being on this ship was killing the boy. If he stayed here, if he was trapped here any longer, it would eventually destroy him completely. Everything good in the boy, everything pure, would wash away. Bill knew this. He _knew_  it. Yet he couldn't let him go. Couldn't bear the thought of this boy leaving him, knowing that if he did, he'd never see him again. That he'd lose the only good thing he had ever had.

Bill pressed his lips against the top of the slumbering boy's head then, wishing that things could be simple. That the boy didn't, for whatever reason, want him. That the boy had pushed him away. That he hadn't held him so tightly, hadn't looked at him like he was the only thing that mattered in this world. God it was confusing him. Making him feel things he shouldn't feel. Making him want what he shouldn't want. They had spoken, so softly, after their shared stories, like they hadn't just bared their respective souls. And it hadn't hurt. Hadn't felt wrong, so soon after thinking of his mother, and those monsters. He had sat against the wall, had allowed the boy to crawl onto his lap to kiss him. Had held the child as he fell asleep, continued to hold him as he slept. And he didn't mind it. Reveled in it, to tell the truth. Loved it. Loved him.

Bill closed his eye, letting out a soft, breathless laugh as he thought that. Loved him. Well, of course he loved him. Of course. Of _course_. Why not? Why the Hell not?! Because the boy was his prisoner and never could truly love him back, no matter how attracted he might be? Because he had only known the boy for a little over two weeks? Because the whole thing was so ludicrous that he wanted to scream?! Who cared! Because Bill freaking Cipher had actually just thought that he could possibly love this child. Because he had actually told said child about his childhood and yet didn't regret it. Nothing made sense anymore.

Oh, he couldn't sit here any longer. Couldn't bear to touch this boy, couldn't bear to feel his soft breathing under his hands, his soothing heat. He felt so wrong, so weird inside. Love? What the hell was love? Bill didn't know. He had never felt it before, wasn't even sure he was feeling it now. His heart had turned black and had died long ago. Long before he had murdered that man. Before, even, his mother had died and had left him on his own. It had been destroyed with each word his mother had uttered to him, had died each time a person overlooked the sad, pathetic child shivering inside a cold alleyway. Had burned away each time he had watched people, dying and diseased, and yet had felt nothing more than intrigue and sick interest, like only a demon could. He hadn't ever felt love, not even for his mother. Had killed his 'father'. How could he love this child when he didn't even know what love was? When his 'love' would be unwanted, unwelcome? So he had to go. Had to be away from the child for a little while, had to come back to his senses. _Love_. Ha! Like that was even something a demon like him could feel.

Bill shifted then, shifting the boy in his arms carefully. He didn't want to wake him, after all. He gently placed the boy on the ground, settling him as tenderly as he could. It sickened him, how gentle he wanted to be with this child, but it seemed that he could not help it. He watched as the boy let out a sleepy sound of discontent, a small frown blooming on his face. It caused something in him to squeeze, so Bill found himself grabbing a blanket that had been lying on the couch and draping it over the boy, while placing a pillow beneath his head. When the frown on the child's face faded, Bill could feel the grip on his heart lessen. Disgusting.

It was with a soft growl that he stood, a jerking motion that contained all the frustration he felt at his recent thoughts, and walked from the boy. He grabbed his signature jacket on the way out of the room, pulling it on as he went. He couldn't bear to spend a single second in this room, not when his mind was racing like it was. Not when his heart felt so weird. Not when he felt so wrong inside.

Walking over to the port side of the ship, Bill took a long look out at the sea, the rising sun peeking out over the horizon. He hadn't even realized that he had spent the whole night awake, a good majority of it spent holding the boy he had just left behind. God, he was pathetic. It was a good thing he had never needed much sleep; a couple hours per night and he was fine. With how little sleep he had gotten recently with his thoughts of that boy and his indulgences, it was a useful skill to have.

As he looked out at the ocean, he wondered, briefly, what his mother would have said if she could have seen him then. Probably would have laughed, saying how pathetic he was to ever hope that a boy like Dipper could ever grow to care for a monster like him. Would say that he was lucky the boy could even stand to be in the same room with him, let alone touch him. That the boy was only pretending, trying to get his guard down so that he could escape, since there was no way the child actually wanted him. After all, who wanted a person who had the Devil inside them? She would probably have been right. Which just made it so much more pathetic that he actually wanted to believe that she was wrong.

He let out a sardonic smile as he watched the sun rise, wondering if he should do something to stop these feelings. If he should throw the boy back in the brig and let his men have their way with him. If he should forget the boy even existed and go back to being Bill Cipher, scourge of men. But even as he thought it, he knew he wouldn't. These emotions were so foreign, but… pleasant. He hadn't ever felt pleasant before. Part of him didn't want to lose this feeling. Even if it, in the long run, would make him hurt. Because there was no way this could ever turn out well. The child was his prisoner. Even if he wanted to be with Bill, there was no saying that the child was in his right mind. Captivity did strange things to people, Bill knew that more than most. Perhaps, if he indeed wasn't faking his feelings, Pine Tree was just creating them as a way to cope with his loss of freedom. It wasn't unheard of.

But none of that really mattered. Whether or not the boy wanted him back, it wasn't like they could ever work. After all, he was a pirate captain, and Pine Tree was a prisoner. A former Noble who despised pirates with all his heart. It just… wouldn't work. Couldn't work. And no matter how pleasant Bill felt, he couldn't afford to be soft towards the boy. His men were already anxious and mistrustful, if he showed the child anymore favor they would most definitely rebel. And that was the last thing either of them needed. So he would keep what they had simple. Kissing the boy was nice; it made him feel almost human. As long as the child allowed it, he would do it. Baring their respective souls to one another meant nothing, really. It just meant they trusted the other wouldn't use the information against them.

He could still feel that wrongness in his heart, though. The pounding, the lightness. It was so utterly _wrong_  that he barely wanted to think of it. So he wouldn't, anymore. Couldn't. He didn't like lying to himself as a rule, but in this case he wasn't as opposed to it as usual. These thoughts, these feelings… they would lead to his downfall. He knew they would. So he turned his thoughts away from the 'feelings' he had for the boy, focussing instead on the sun as it rose.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, he could hear his men milling around the deck, getting the ship ready for the sailing they would do that day. That meant he would likely have to take over his duty as head helmsman soon. He was not sure if that was a good thing or not. While he did enjoy guiding the ship, enjoyed the power it gave him, it was typically not very interesting. And with all the thoughts he had running through his mind, about that boy, it was not wise for him to be alone with his thoughts for too long. It also did not help that, as of that moment, they did not have a set destination in mind. The crew had voted to set course for the slave trade to sell their prisoner, but since Bill was nearly certain he was not going to let his Pine Tree go, there was not much point in their current destination. It would be hell to convince the crew to change course, though… especially with their concerns with his intentions towards the boy.

Perhaps he could convince them of a better destination, of somewhere that would benefit them better as a crew. That could make them forget their current destination and let them not mind the fact he was intending on keeping the boy with him for as long as he could. He had no idea where, though. Buried treasure was a scarcity, and there was no saying that the crew would want to change course just because of a chance to attack a port town.

Well… there was one thing he could think of to get them to change their destination. Thinking on it, it would also kill two birds with one stone. While he had not found any buried treasure, or any maps, he had heard of several pirate captains who had. And one such was a name that a certain Pine Tree had mentioned the night before, a name uttered oh so bitterly from such innocent lips. Perhaps, if he spun his tale well enough, used his expert lying skills well enough, he could convince his men that going after one Captain Jackson Hallow would be a grand idea, to gain possession of that treasure map the man had foolishly flaunted a month or so ago around a neutral port. Even if he had found the treasure, he was sure his men would be all for liberating the man of it. It possibly could work.

With that determined in his mind, Bill moved then to take his place as helmsman, knowing that he would raise his idea for changing course that night, while the crew was resting for the night. Before he could get far, though, he was stopped when he heard a voice calling his name. As soon as he heard it, he felt a scowl rise on his lips, knowing there was only one man aboard this ship who dared call him by his preferred name instead of his title. Only one man with the rank to do so.

Turning, Bill looked with distaste at the Quartermaster, a small, lean man whose face seemed to be permanently stuck in a scowl. Theodore Strange was his name, and he was the biggest pain that Bill had to put up with as a Captain. Since the man shared his power, more or less ruling the ship while they were not in battle, the man believed himself to be Bill's equal. Bill disagreed, which, more or less, caused the majority of their issues. Not to mention the fact that he was one of the biggest disapprovers of his interest in Dipper, constantly reminding him of the crew's upset and disapproval. But, since the man was the representative of the crew, he was forced to play nice with him. Joy.

"Theodore! How great it is to see you! Was there something you wanted?" Bill asked, a huge and highly false grin on his face as he looked at the sour faced man. Theodore merely scowled at him, arms crossed and eyes pinched.

"You placed Roderick in th' infirmary," the man accused, not even bothering with a greeting. Bill rolled his eye and shrugged in response.

"He disrespected me! What was I supposed to do?" And the man had! Had said, right where he could hear, how it was nice that 'the captain was enjoying time with his little whore.' First off, that implied that Bill would stoop so low as to need to get a whore, if he even cared for that thing. Second off, the man had been stupid enough to say something derogatory about his captain while said captain was in earshot. In his opinion, Roderick deserved the broken jaw, thank you very much.

He watched as Theodore let out a loud sigh, rising a hand to massage the bridge of his nose.

"And it had nothin', at all, to do with th' fact you're messin' around with that prisoner of yours?" The man demanded, which caused Bill to scowl and turn away. Ah, so the man was bothering about _that_  again. About the boy that 'the whole crew' believed him to be going 'soft' for. Well, they were wrong. He may have… _feelings_  for the boy, but he would not allow it to effect his position. What he had with the boy was pleasant, but not worth losing his ship over. He had been captain for over four years, after years of laboring under the command of unworthy and pathetic men. Nothing would make him give that up. When he did not reply, though, he heard as the man sighed once again.

"That child is changin' you, Bill. You once were ruthless against your prisoners, carin' not what happened ta them. You never cared what your men did. Now? You act defensive any time th' boy is even mentioned in conversation. You strike members of your crew without due cause and without permission. And you moved the boy into your own quarters with no warnin'. Th' men are not happy, Bill. Not happy at all. You continue on this path and you might find yourself with a mutiny on your hands," Theodore warned, eyebrows raised. Bill scowled deeply in response, feeling anger bubbling in his gut as he looked at the aggravating quartermaster. Oh, he wished he could slay the man and just be done with it, but that would regrettably end his stint as captain, and quite possibly his life. The crew would not take too kindly to their quartermaster being killed by their captain. Theodore, after all, was the one who split up their shares of the gold, as well as looked after their interests. So he had to restrain himself, even though he could feel his hands itching to grab his knife and stab it through that ridiculous face.

"I have not changed at all, Theodore," Bill growled, eye glaring daggers at the man he was regrettably speaking to. "So I have found… pleasure in my captive. How is that different to any other man on this ship, at one point or another? I do not like to share, as you are well aware, so I forbid anyone from using the boy. My interest in the child is nothing more than carnal, I assure you," he lied, knowing that should he reveal his real reason for keeping the child, he would only rankle his crew even more. And while he refused to feel shame for anything he did, ever, he did know that admitting to his crew that he, possibly, cared for his prisoner would just make things infinitely worse. He doubted they would actually mutiny against him, but if they felt he was unable to do his job properly… even if it was completely untrue, there was not much he could do against it. So playing up the fact that the crew thought he was sleeping with the boy would be in both of their best interests.

"And th' change in his prison? Th' crew does not like how the boy is so close ta you, Bill. They do not know what it is that th' two of you get up to in there," Theodore shot back, standing up as straight as he could, even though he barely reached Bill's chin. Bill snorted at the question.

"What do you think we do, Violaceous?" Bill rejoined, putting a bit of a leer on his face. As long as he played up his supposed attraction to Pine Tree, the crew would not doubt his intentions towards the boy. After all, they had all wondered about his lack of interest in the carnal pleasures, though none would say it to his face. When he had gotten strange looks, he had always claimed he was not interested in such trivial matters, but perhaps now he could convince them he was reconsidering. Good thing he had always been an expert liar. "The boy is interesting and I enjoy watching him break beneath me. His screams are delightful to hear and the dead look in his eyes tickles me. Having him in my quarters is simply more convenient than returning to the brig every time I wish to satisfy myself. I had not thought that such a change would be one that needed voting."

Theodore looked at him for several moments, not saying anything, simply staring. Bill just stared coolly back, not allowing any cracks to form in his seamless mask. He had perfected this mask several years before, long before he had ever set foot on a ship. It was one of the first things he recalled learning, as a child. How to hide unwanted or unpleasant emotions from the outside world, to project an image that was completely different to what he truly felt inside. He was proud of this ability. So it was no surprise when Theodore sighed, looking away from him. No one was able to stand looking at him too long, he had heard. His stare unnerved them too much.

"Very well, Cipher. If that is what you say, I will believe it. And I will do what I can to sooth over the crew. I have no desires to see you removed from your position, as it would be a pain to find a captain even half as skilled as you," the man claimed, his scowl less pronounced than it usually was. Bill simply rolled his eye at the words.

"I have been a pirate for fourteen years and Captain for four. Did you truly believe that I would throw that away for some boy?" He questioned, a smirk on his lips, his eyebrows raised. It was a good question, one he knew would alleviate a good majority of Theodore's lingering doubts. After all, the man knew the glee and pride that Bill took from his work. And, as predicted, he could see the last remaining doubt leave the man's violet eyes, the man finally secure in the knowledge that Bill hadn't gone completely mad and decided to go soft for some boy he had known for less than a month. And it wasn't even a lie. Bill would admit that the boy had changed him a little, had brought out some latent tenderness from inside him, that he possibly… _cared_  more for the boy than he probably should, but he was not going to let it affect his role as captain. He refused to allow the boy reign over this aspect of his life. He'd throw the boy into the raging sea before that happened, even if it would sting quite a bit.

"No, you would not. I believe you, Cipher," the man nodded, before turning to leave. As he did, Bill remembered his thoughts from before the man had come to speak to him, and he found himself calling out to the quartermaster. When the man turned back, eyebrows raised, Bill gave him a careless grin.

"I've been thinking, recently. Do you remember Captain Hallow and the tales of his treasure map?" Bill inquired, keeping his tone light. He watched as Theodore frowned further, giving him a peculiar look.

"Yes… if I recall correctly, you voted against tryin' ta thieve it from th' man. Said it was a waste of time," Theodore said slowly, like he was attempting to understand Bill's thought process. Good luck with that, Bill thought with mild humor. Not many people could follow his special brand of crazy, which often went in his favor. When people didn't know how you thought, they couldn't predict your actions, which was good while trying to not get caught by the British, French, or Spanish Navy.

"Yes, well, I've reconsidered. I believe it would be beneficial for us to try and retrieve it from the man. It's been a while since we've looked for treasure; it should be fun!" He claimed, a pleasant grin forming on his face. He watched as Theodore's eyebrows shot straight up, a comical look of shock and confusion rising on his face. Bill didn't have much time to appreciate the stupefied expression before the look cleared, replaced by understanding and a scowl.

"Is this because our current course is to th' slave trade?" The quartermaster questioned suspiciously. Bill continued to grin pleasantly, though he spared a quick second to regret the fact this man was more cultured than most of his crew. Theodore came from a naval background- defecting from the Navy only after murdering his commanding officer- which meant he had an ounce of a brain in his head. It was why he was quartermaster, after all. It meant, though, that it was harder to fool him than most of his men. Harder, but not impossible. So, he shrugged carelessly, allowing his grin to take on a sardonic tilt.

"That was not what made me think of it. Gaining the map would allow us the chance to get more gold, is all. I suppose changing course now would allow me more time with Pi-the boy, but that was not why I had thought of it. I will admit, though, that it would be an added benefit. After all, he really is fun to break," he grinned, allowing a dark look to enter his eye.

"Well, we could always set course after we drop th' boy off," Theodore stated slowly, still looking at Bill with that damned suspicion. Just when he had thought he had gotten the man off his case, he had to go and get suspicious again. Why couldn't his crew just trust him? So aggravating. Bill shrugged again, not letting the annoyance he felt show.

"I suppose we could, but we're still two weeks away from the slave trade, traveling northeast. Last I heard, Dark Destiny was spotted around the British coast, due west from us. The longer we wait, the less chance we will have of gaining his map, or better yet, his gold. It's been a month already, if we wait any longer we'll lose our chance. Come, Taddy, don't you want to go treasure hunting again?" He questioned, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, allowing some of his usual manic personality to show. It was with relief that he saw the suspicion in the man's eyes fade again, though it was replaced with mild annoyance. But Bill didn't mind. He loved annoying people, really, it made them unpredictable, which made it easier for Bill to predict. He was, after all, the master of being unpredictable.

"I suppose that makes sense. I will bring that up with th' crew as well. I'll call for a vote durin' breakfast. You may wish ta join us in the mess hall t'day, then, so you can explain yourself," Theodore told, before turning and leaving, his ridiculous purple overcoat billowing in the wind. Bill rolled his eye at the sight, turning to head up to helm. While he would not be setting course just then, waiting instead for the vote the quartermaster would hold, it wouldn't hurt to stand at his station and look at his ocean. Not to mention he did not wish to go back to his quarters just then. He still wasn't quite sure what to think of his… _feelings_  towards the boy who occupied his living space. So the helm it was.

As he walked, he had to admit that, while speaking to Theodore was never pleasant, at least now he had gotten two things cleared up. Now the man was no longer suspicious of him, something he had been unable to achieve for the past few days, and he had gotten his vote for the change of course. With his talent for words, he'd be sure to convince the simpleminded sailors who worked under him that changing course would be in their best interest. One mention of More Gold and he knew at least half of them would give in right then. Slave trade did pay well, but not nearly as much as buried treasure. Not for one, slightly effeminate boy. Once everything was cleared up, things would go back to normal, and he'd just have Pine Tree to spend time with every night.

There was no way this could at all go wrong.


	16. Stockholm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> So... this chapter. Aha. I have problems with it. Mostly with the fact that it's kind of... pointless. To be honest, it's more of a transition chapter than anything, kind of like chapters 3 and 8. So I'm mostly going over things I've already gone over, to conclude them. Mostly, I wanted to hammer in that Dipper? Is NOT doing okay. So... yeah. This chapter was also the crux of my writer's block, taking over a month to write, so it's kind of disjointed. I did my best to fix it, so I hope you all like it. 
> 
> Anyway, who's excited for the last episode of Gravity Falls? I know I am. Excited, and terrified. It's either going to be the best birthday present ever, or the worst (since my birthday is the 10th, five days before the finale). Here's hoping we don't die with our feels.
> 
> And, finally, the bad news... I've not been doing well, with writing. Things are kind of... stressful. As mentioned above, my birthday is in less than a month, and I'm... not too thrilled. Turning eighteen is kind of, eh, terrifying. Mix in school, a stupid science fair project, and life in general, things are not going well. I want to finish this story, but... I think I may need to take a break. I'm sorry. I still have one more chapter written, but after that... it may be a little while. 
> 
> Well... enjoy.

Dipper sat upright with his back against the wall, a leather bound book held tightly in his hands. The boy's focus was completely on the words in front of him, reading them almost religiously. After three weeks of not reading, this simple book of constellations was like heaven. He completely ignored the man who was sauntering around the cabin. After all, he had been in this room for a week now. Ignoring Bill had gotten a lot easier in that time, as used to him as he was, though he did occasionally find his eyes straying from their positions, wherever they had landed.

But not then. Right then he was engrossed in his book, reading the words like a man dying of thirst. When Bill had thrown the book at him that morning, he had been at first confused. When his captain had turned from him, saying nothing as he simply exited the cabin, Dipper had lifted the book, wondering why the man had given it to him. It was kind of embarrassing how long it had taken for him to realize that it had been a gift, something to help with the boredom. He had confessed to Bill the day before that he sometimes felt bored just sitting there for hours during the day, and the man must have taken the words to heart. It had been with a soaring heart that the boy had begun reading, the words more precious than he had ever thought words could be.

He had missed reading. Had missed the feel of a solid book in his hands, missed being able to lose himself in words. He recalled, with a touch of longing, the books he had bought at port before this whole fiasco had started. It seemed like such a distant memory, like it had happened years ago, as opposed to the three weeks it had been. It was bizarre, though, just how normal this made him feel. For weeks he had struggled with feeling like a new person, feeling different than he had once been. Sitting here, reading this book… reminded him that while things may be different, he was still himself. He was still Dipper Pines, book lover extraordinaire. He wasn't completely different. It was a relief to think, really.

He was so engrossed in his book that he hadn't even noticed the lack of sound until he saw the black gloved fingers gently wrap around the top of his book and push it carefully down, which Dipper allowed. The bright golden eye that was staring at him so intensely made his breath catch, made his heart clench. So bright. Like the sun. _Blinding_.

"Hey there, Pine Tree," Bill said, quietly, an odd smirk on his mouth. Dipper had noticed that Bill had looked at him weirdly ever since _that night_. That night when he had shared a story so personal, so… so _private_  that he was surprised he didn't feel regret. Three days, and no regret. But he supposed it shouldn't surprise him. Not when Bill looked at him so softly. Not when he felt so warm. He had always been so cold, inside, ever since he had lost his parents and had seen the darkness consume his twin. Warmth was so foreign to him. How could he resist? He didn't even mind the nickname anymore. He didn't mind anything. Part of him wondered if he should be concerned, but the majority of him had finally settled on not caring. He had given in. Completely.

"Hey, Bill," he replied, equally as quiet. He was always quiet, now. Didn't want this to break. Especially not now.

Bill said nothing in return, simply stared. Dipper stared back, calmly, warmly. The book was still held in his hands, he felt it, but it didn't hold his interest just then. Bill was more important than a silly book. He wondered, briefly, what Bill wanted, but wouldn't mind if he hadn't wanted anything. It wouldn't be the first time. Bill liked attention, after all. Dipper had always known that. The man hated it when people ignored him.

Moments ticked by, before Bill dropped his gaze to the book. A small smirk found its way onto his lips, less odd than the previous one had been.

"I see you are enjoying the book I found for you," Bill said smoothly, eye meeting his again. Dipper smiled back, noticing the way Bill started slightly. He hadn't really smiled at Bill _before_ , not open and honest like this one was. He had only really begun over the past three days, so he supposed it made sense that the man was still a bit surprised each time he did it.

"I was, until you interrupted me," Dipper scolded with no heat. He was still smiling, a soft smile that he hadn't smiled since he had been on The Mystery. A smile he usually reserved for his sister, or occasionally Wendy. It felt nice to smile it again. He heard Bill snort softly, which made his smile widen. It hurt his cheeks, a little, but he'd live with it.

"You were ignoring me. Can't have that, can we?" Bill questioned, eyebrow raised high. Dipper nodded slowly, understanding. After all, he had come up with the same conclusion. And Bill did deserve his attention, he supposed.

"No. We can't," Dipper repeated, eyes firmly on Bill. He felt a thrill of something flood through him at the lascivious look Bill gave him, a look that still made his stomach clench. Pleasantly, of course. No need for anything unpleasant.

His kiss made his veins heat, as it always did. He kissed back, eager and willing. It was so nice, kissing Bill so freely. Without the hatred and self-hatred filling him. Oh, all of that was still there, deep inside of him. Of course it was. The feelings were too intense to simply fade away. But he just didn't care anymore. At all. It was so much easier to not care, wasn't it? Yes. Yes, it was. So much more pleasant. So much nicer. So he was being morally wrong. So he had completely gone against everything he had ever believed in. So what? _So what?_  His morals weren't helping him, here. Bill was. Bill was, and Bill was doing it so sweetly, so wonderfully. Dipper wanted this. Dipper _needed_  this. Didn't want to lose this. Not ever.

When Bill pulled back, minutes later, Dipper found himself letting out a soft, high-pitched whine, leaning forwards to try and make Bill come back. But Bill just chuckled, his eye hooded and his lips curled into a delicate smile, keeping his distance. Dipper watched him stand up and move back over to his dresser, pulling the black, leather gloves off and putting them away. Bill had told him once that he wore the gloves to counteract the frigid air while he was steering the ship. Dipper liked them; they were soft and felt smooth against his skin.

Dipper watched Bill move around the cabin for a couple minutes, before turning back to his book with a small, happy sound. He made sure to keep aware of Bill, though, knowing the man would be upset if he didn't. After a little while, Bill started speaking again, words about the weather and the conditions of the ship. Mundane and not particularly necessary or interesting. But Dipper listened all the same, raptly, putting his book aside even though he'd love to keep reading. Bill mattered more than his book, he thought. Mattered more than his wants. R-right?

Things weren't perfect. Dipper knew that. He was still trapped on a pirate shop with no hope of escape... But then, did he even want to escape anymore? Part of him thought he should. Mabel… but while he was here, he had Bill. He would never be able to have both, both sister and lover. So while part of him longed for home, he wasn't exactly looking to escape. Especially after what happened last time… he saw now that Bill had been right, in punishing him. It was the right thing to do. He had deserved the lashes, deserved Bill's wrath. He was lucky his captor- _no, no, his_ savior _, Bill had_ saved  _him from those pirates the first night and had continued to keep him safe_ \- was no longer mad at him. He would have deserved it. Deserved Bill's anger. Wouldn't he? Yes, he decided with a firm nod. Yes, he would, and still did. He was lucky Bill wasn't angry, anymore. So lucky. That was him, huh? Lucky Dipper Pines…

"We're scheduled to reach our destination in a little over a week," Bill stated after a lapse in his monologue, words almost too casual. Dipper would have missed them, had he not been paying such good attention to his lover's words. When they registered, the boy felt himself stiffen, eyes wide as he looked over at Bill.

"Oh." Oh. Their, uh, destination. He had… had managed to forget about that, for a while there. Had forgotten about the… the _slave trade_ , had thought… well, he didn't know what he had thought. That Bill would- would change his mind? That he wouldn't sell him? Had he- had he been wrong? As he stared with his wide eyes, seeing only the man's lean back, he wondered if he had. It certainly put a damper on his previous contentment, his mood plummeting faster than was likely healthy.

"The wind has been with us. We've made good time," The man continued, rustling through some papers, but Dipper was barely listening. He could feel panic filling his heart against his will, his thoughts racing.

He wondered what it would be like, living as a slave. Not good, he knew that. Oh dear. He tried not to think of it, tried to tell himself that he was mistaken, that Bill surely wasn't going to sell him, couldn't sell him, but the panic invaded his body. His heart froze, his previous contentment completely gone. He gripped the book in his hands tightly and tried to breathe.

Goddammit, he had finally come to terms with being trapped on this godforsaken ship, had given in to Bill, had thought that if he behaved maybe he'd be _safe_! That he wouldn't be _hurt_  anymore! But this… oh, this changed everything.

He had thought things were going well! He had thought… had thought that he had been what Bill wanted. Clearly not, he thought, heart beating as he stared wide eyed at the wall, no longer able to stare at that lean back.

He was so tired. He just wanted to be safe, to not be constantly worrying. To not have to fight every second he was alive. Here, it was… well, not easy, but certainly not impossible. Who knew what would happen if he was sold to an uncaring owner? At least Bill cared. Right? Right?! … Right.

So why was he going to sell him? That was the question.

God, he was tired. This worry… this panic… it was eating him. Devouring him. He hated it. Hated it like he hated nothing else. The pleasure he had gotten from Bill was so much better, so much easier. It was easy, to push the self-hatred, the disgust down. Easy now that he had given Bill everything he had. Everything he was. Now that he had given up, finally, truly.

It hurt him, to think that Bill was going to sell him. That he was… that Bill wanted him gone. That his struggle to get to here was worthless. That it was all in vain.

Dipper could feel his heart pounding, could feel fear and panic trickling into his blood. And sadness. For what he would lose, here. Funny, Bill had become important to him. More important than he had any right to be. And yet… yet he wasn't important to Bill.

Funny.

Dipper felt his eyes closing, his mind fuzzing as he tried to slow his heart, calm his mind-numbing fear. He tried to listen to Bill, tried to hear the words that the man refused to ever stop spewing, but he couldn't. Couldn't get his ears to work as his chest compressed, his body shaking uncontrollably. He tried to catch his breath but it felt like a struggle. Like he couldn't. Like he was drowning.

Like a man drowning, getting pulled downward by relentless waves.

Like he was going to die.

(He didn't want to die.)

(He didn't want to _die_.)

(He didn't… he-he didn't-)

(...)

( _He was going to die_.)

( _Alone_.)

( _Afraid_.)

( _Forgotten_.)

_(Would anyone miss him?)_

(...)

( ** _No_ **.)****

(CantbreathecantbreathecantbreathecantbreatheCANTBREATHECANTBREATHECANT-)

He distantly felt fingers touching his face, could hear the fainted muffle of a voice, but it was like he was underwater. Everything was slow, sluggish. The fingers burned where they touched his face, but he couldn't feel it.

Couldn't feel anything.

(Only panic.)

His cheek suddenly stung, sharp pain that made him gasp, air filling his lungs only briefly. He opened his eyes and looked at the man in front of him. Saw the hesitance and uncertainty on the usually confidant face.

He didn't know what to make of it.

(It made him feel warm.)

(And afraid.)

(…)

(No.)

( _Terrified_.)

He tried to speak, tried to say something, but his chest clenched again, and he was forced to bend to accommodate. Warm fingers trailed over his face. Over his hair.

He liked it.

( _Too much_.)

"Pine Tree," he heard that devilish voice call, still muffled but distinctly there. It made him shiver.

The hand was cupping his face now.

(Oh.)

His eyes were wide. He could feel tears gathering in them. He wasn't sure what was causing it.

(Yes he did.)

(Of course he did.)

(How could he not?)

"You're going to be fine."

Hushed words. Kinder than he had thought the man in front of him was capable of. Seemed that he would always be surprised by this man.

(Until he was sent away, that was.)

(Then he'd never see him again.)

(…)

(Oh.)

He felt breath brush against his face. Like a lover it caressed him, gentle against his sensitive skin. It was close. So close. He didn't know how to feel about it.

(Scared.)

(But God did he want it.)

Lips. He felt… lips. But not… not against his own. No.

Against his cheek.

Soft, tender.

He hadn't known the man could be tender.

(He didn't know anything about Bill, did he?)

He stopped breathing. He held his breath as he stared at the man. The captain. _His_  captain. Who was staring back, face impassive as he cocked his head to the side, golden eye staring, searching.

Searching what?

(His soul?)

(Did he even have a soul?)

(…)

(What's in a soul, anyway?)

Slowly, he let the breath out. It was shaky, but he kept his eyes glued to the man in front of him. Didn't look away. Didn't dare.

His heart stopped pounding. His body stopped shaking.

(But the fear remained.)

( _ **The fear would always remain.**_ )

His breath was still shaky. But still he breathed. In. Out. In… Out. Like his great uncle had taught him, those first few months After. When his heart filled with fear and panic, smoke prevalent in his nostrils. When the slightest sound was a raging fire, a glint of light was a blade come to kill him. When his sister was walking death, eyes dark and broken from the things she had seen. He'd been afraid, then, too.

(He was always afraid.)

(Always.)

The trick was working. His breathing was returning to normal, his heart finally reaching a more normal rate. All the while, he kept staring at the man across from him.

(His eye was bright gold.)

(He hadn't known that people could have golden eyes.)

(It was beautiful.)

"Are you better now?" That voice asked, the high pitch familiar and welcome. With a deep breath- his lungs protesting, aching- he shrugged, unsure.

(Was he ever better?)

(...)

(Was he ever okay?)

(...)

(No.)

"Our new destination is nothing to be wary of, Pine Tree. I think you might enjoy it. After a fashion," The man continued, eye boring into him.

Dipper couldn't even find it in him to feel relief at the news of a new destination.

(Would he still get sent away?)

(Maybe.)

(Maybe this was all a cruel joke.)

(Maybe he didn't even want to stay on this ship anymore.)

(Maybe he didn't know what he wanted.)

He nodded dumbly, not saying a word as he watched Bill. He didn't know if he could speak, or if only noise would come out if he tried. As he fell into that too bright, too golden eye, he started to relax. The fear in his heart faded until he couldn't feel it anymore. He felt relieved.

(The fear was still there of course.)

(It would never truly leave.)

(Just stuffed into a little box.)

(Waiting for the next time.)

(Even he knew that.)

With a bit of effort, Dipper smiled weakly, watching as a glimmer of relief entered his captain's eye. The man smiled back, his grin wide and sharp, yet not manic. Dipper stayed put as a callused hand reached out and gently caressed his cheek, causing the boy to shudder lightly.

"Everything will work out perfectly, Pine Tree. Don't you worry your pretty little head," his captain said, a touch condescending as he continued to grin. Dipper chose to ignore the minor insult, instead reveling in the warm fingers trailing over his cool flesh. It felt nice.

(So, so nice.)

(He shouldn't enjoy the touch of a murderer.)

(He did though.)

(Something was wrong with him.)

"O-okay, Bill. I… I trust you, the boy rasped, voice shaking and throat protesting. But the words were meant.

He trusted Bill.

(Idiot.)

His captain's smile grew even brighter, losing the sharpness. It was blinding in its intensity, so utterly beautiful and brilliant. Oh, he loved that smile.

"Good," the man murmured, eye soft, sparkling like molten gold. He could get lost in that eye. Lost forever and ever, never to be found.

(Did he want to, though?)

(…)

(He didn't know.)

"I should get to bed now. I have a long day of sailing tomorrow," that voice mused a minute later, eye still fixed on his, hand still caressing his cheek. Dipper didn't want him to leave, wanted the man to stay, but knew he should likely go. After all, he was the captain of a ship. He needed his rest to properly get them where they needed to go.

With reluctance, Dipper nodded, taking a shallow and shaky breath in. He was feeling better, after recovering from the fear that had invaded him. He felt silly though, now that he was calm again, that he had freaked out in the first place. He was lucky Bill had been so understanding.

Why, he didn't even know why he had freaked out in the first place.

(Yes he did.)

(It was just easier to pretend he didn't.)

(It always was.)

"Okay. I'll see you in the morning, then," Dipper replied, voice soft and slightly hoarse, a soft smile on his lips. Bill smiled back and leaned in to kiss him softly. Dipper keened lightly at the contact, leaning in like a moth to the flame. Like he could never, ever get enough.

(Like Bill was the spider enticing its prey.)

"See you, Pine Tree," Bill smirked, standing and heading over to his bed. He dimmed the lantern, but did not turn it off. Dipper was grateful. He wanted to read some more, which would have been impossible in the dark. Bill was so considerate, Dipper thought with a small smile.

Once the man had settled in completely, soft breathing filling the room, Dipper turned to the book that laid forgotten in his hands, opening it to the page he had left off on. As he read, he pushed any bad emotions he may have had out of him, including the last remaining bit of panic.

Things were fine. He had no reason to panic. His back was mostly healed, only scabs and scars left to show his captain's anger. As long as he behaved, Bill would never have cause to hurt him again. And he wasn't going to be sold, of course not! Bill… Bill cared about him more than that.

So it was with a settled mind that Dipper returned to his book, humming softly to himself.

And when he woke the next morning to the sound of his captain getting ready for the day, he found himself thinking that he wouldn't mind things staying like this for forever. It was nice, here. He was safe, and warm, and- dare he say it- loved.

What could possibly be wrong with this?

He looked down at his wrists.

(Oh, right.)

(That.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. Dipper freaked out because he's starting to fully realize that he has absolutely no control. Bill could do anything to him and he's powerless to stop it. Being reminded of their destination just put that in harsh reality. He had done his best to be what Bill wanted, and yet still he would be sold (or so he thinks; remember, Dipper isn't the most rational right now). Being told of their change in destination didn't make him calm down, since that wasn't what was driving his panic; it was the loss of control and the helplessness that was. What calmed him down was him pushing his emotions away, which was just a temporary solution, really. I hope this makes sense...


	17. Sword Practice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Just a quick warning: I was unable to edit this chapter as much as I typically do, so I apologize for any mistakes or awkward writing. 
> 
> Now onto bad news. This is the last chapter that I have written. I have half of chapter 18 written, but I still have a lot left to go. Good news is that next chapter should be either the last or the second to last, excluding the epilogue, so that's good. HOWEVER, I've got more bad news. February is going to be busy for me. I have a science fair on the 4th, then my birthday is on the 10th, then my little cousins and my aunt and uncle are coming for a week... and I may have a job, if I can get one once I turn 18. So... not a lot of time to write. 
> 
> I will finish this story. I promise. It just... may take a little while. I want to get the next chapter out before the end of the series, but I make no promises. 
> 
> Well, I hope you like this chapter. I'm a bit iffy on it, but I'm always iffy on my writing, so... yeah. Just saying; some things might not make much sense, but I will hopefully explain them all eventually. This is just leading up to the next chapter, where the action happens. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Dipper woke in the morning to a golden eye right in front of his own. Instead of feeling panicked, like he once would have, he just smiled lazily, blinking the sleep from his own eyes.

"Good morning, Bill," he said, sleep thick in his voice. He saw Bill pout a little, which caused his smile to widen.

"Aw, you didn't make any funny noises, Pine Tree," Bill groused, but he had a gleam in his eye that told Dipper he didn't really mind. So, in response, Dipper rolled his eyes, shifting so he could sit up.

"I'm used to you now. You can't scare me," Dipper claimed absently, stretching his arms over his head. He winced slightly when the chain swung down and hit him in the side of the head. When he focussed on Bill again, he noticed the man had an odd look in his eye, one that made Dipper frown slightly. It looked… startled? Before he could figure it out entirely, the look was gone, Bill smiling an easy-going grin.

"You sure about that, Pine Tree?" His captain asked, eye alight with a sort of dark mirth. Dipper smirked back, shrugging casually, pretending he didn't see the darkness.

"Mmhmm. Kind of hard to find a person scary when you watch them change every morning," Dipper drawled, before a soft smile found its way onto his lips. Bill got a considering look on his face, before nodding with mock solemnity.

"Hmm, I suppose you are correct, Pine Tree." A heavy sigh. "Oh well. Guess you see right through me, huh, Dipper?"

The words were light, the tone casual, but Dipper felt his heart stop at them. Bill's face was split into a careless grin, like he hadn't a care in the world, like he hadn't just used Dipper's name for the first time since he had learned it. Like he hadn't just revealed… something. What, Dipper didn't know. But… it was something.

Pushing down the emotions that rose inside of him before he said something stupid, Dipper leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on Bill's lips. It was not the first that he had initiated, but it was by far the most heartfelt.

"Guess so," he breathed against the warm lips, heart fluttering and nerves tingling. He let out a shuddery gasp when he felt fingers trail his neck up to his hair, the long digits burrowing into his curly strands gloriously. A small chuckle was released against his lips, a beautiful sound when it wasn't full of derision.

"Hmm. Good thing I see right through you, too, isn't it?"

Oh. Oh. Those words. Dipper could feel shivers run down his spine, could feel his heart stop in his chest.

He should be afraid. He should be backing away, should be apprehensive. But all he felt was…

Resigned.

Like he knew it was the complete truth.

And he didn't even care.

Because it was the truth, wasn't it? Bill saw him. Bill _saw_  him. Him, Dipper Pines. All this time, he had been worried about 'losing himself,' when here was the only person who understood him. Mabel never did, try as she might. And with the problems she had, Dipper could never even dream of speaking to her about his own private fears and anger. As for Stan… he loved his great uncle, felt grateful for what the man had done for both him and his sister, but he'd never understand. And as for Wendy, or Soos… they didn't know him. Not really.

They just knew the husk of who he had once been, before pirates stole his life.

But Bill. _Bill_. Bill knew him. Bill _understood him_. Bill was his friend. Bill was his lover. Bill was everything he ever wanted yet had thought he would never have.

Bill was the love of his life.

Bill was his savior.

Bill was his everything.

And he loved it. Loved him, loved Bill. Yes, it was love, he marveled as he looked into that mesmerizing, golden stare. Love that he felt every second he was with this man, every second he was apart from him. Less than month was all it had taken, three and a half weeks aboard this ship and he was head over heels in love.

When he saw Bill tilt his head, a look of confusion passing over his beautiful face, Dipper couldn't help but lean forward to kiss him again. He had no idea how else to express what he felt inside, the way his heart swelled and fluttered, the way his mind blanked. He pressed into Bill until there was no space between them, until there was nothing but him and Bill.

And in that moment, Dipper wondered what it would be like if Bill touched him. Not chastely, like he always did, but decidedly _un_ chastely. In places he had only dreamed of, in places only he, himself, had touched. He wondered what it would feel like. Would it be good? He had a feeling it would be. Had a feeling Bill would feel amazing against him, his hands like fire trailing down his stomach and to…

Dipper felt his heart stutter at his thoughts, breath catching as Bill gently trailed kisses down his neck. Oh, he wanted it. Wanted Bill so, so badly. Loved him so much, needed him so much.

"I love you," Dipper breathed out into the air, unable to keep it in. He hadn't meant to say it, but it had just come out. He could feel Bill freeze against him, his lips warm against his rapid pulse. Moments passed, Dipper's heart and mind frozen, before the lips moved, softly, gently. He felt strong hands grip his hips, pulling him flush against the other man.

And when those lips met his again, the kiss he found was so intense he wanted to cry. Finally, after sixteen, almost seventeen years of life… after over a year of numb muddling through mundane living… after all the heartache, sorrow, pain, and woe… he had something good. Something-something nice. Something that made his heart simultaneously rejoice and cry. Because he didn't know if he deserved this. Didn't know if he deserved any of this. If he deserved Bill.

"See we have another thing in common, kid," that voice muttered against his lips long minutes later, soft but clear. And he cried then. Not loudly, not like he had lost something. Not even of joy, of such utter happiness. Just steady tears that fell down his face, unbidden.

And he didn't even know why.

He felt Bill pull back without a word, felt him gently wipe the tears away. Dipper let out a soft whine at that, lidded eyes watching Bill as he pulled away, pulled farther from him than he ever wanted the man to be. Dipper wanted to feel Bill against him always; he didn't want the man to be away from him, not now. Not ever.

But he had no say. After his captain had finished drying his eyes, a strangely calm expression on his face, he stood up and walked away. Dipper had tried to ask him to stay, had tried to beg him not to go, but his voice didn't work. Couldn't work, after the tears he hadn't meant to shed. His heart hurt, his head hurt. All he could do was watch Bill as he rummaged around the drawer beside his bed, his body relaxed and his motions unhurried. When the man found what he was looking for, Dipper watched as he returned, face neutral.

The man knelt before him then, head tilted once again. His eye was piercing and his face was expressionless. Dipper couldn't look away. It was only when he felt his wrists get tugged that he looked down, a small frown blooming as he saw the manacles get removed.

"What are you doing?" The boy asked, curiosity drowning out the upset and confusion he had been feeling. Bill grinned at him, the false smile he hated.

"We've got some business to attend to, Pine Tree. Something I've put off for the past week. But I don't think I can put it off any longer."

Well, that wasn't confusing. Dipper's frown deepened as he stared at the reddened flesh of his wrists. A second later, he shrugged, smiling up at Bill.

"Alright. What are we doing?" The boy questioned, feeling an eagerness fill him, all previous negativity forgotten. Part of him wondered if it was healthy that his mood was constantly switching from one feeling to another. He decided to ignore that part and smiled at Bill.

"You'll see when we get started," Bill claimed offhand, standing with a grin. Dipper took the hand that Bill offered, standing and following the man to the door. He paused, though, as Bill began to walk through it.

"Uh, Bill?" Dipper started, frowning again at his captain's back. Bill looked back at him, an eyebrow raised as he stopped as well.

"Yes, Pine Tree?"

"Um… aren't you forgetting something?" Dipper questioned, a little hesitant, looking down at his bare ankles. Even if they were just spending time in the man's office, shouldn't he be chained down? That was how it had always been before. The man wasn't even holding the ankle restraints, and Dipper knew that they were back in Bill's bedside table. The boy could feel his stomach flutter unpleasantly as he thought this. He wasn't quite sure why.

Bill, however, just grinned.

"Don't worry, Pine Tree. You're not gonna run, are you? Besides, what we're doing, those restraints'll just get in the way. Trust me, kid. It'll be fine," Bill reassured, tone relaxed and unworried. Dipper, still feeling the unpleasant fluttering in his gut, had no choice but to trust Bill. After all, as Bill said, it wasn't like he was going to run. Not anymore. So it made sense that Bill wouldn't chain him down while walking anymore. He should feel grateful that Bill trusted him this much.

With only the slightest of hesitance, Dipper continued after Bill, pressing close to his side once they had left the man's office and were exposed to the pirates who were getting the ship ready for the day. It had been over a week since he had last been outside, but he didn't have it in him to care much for the view around him. The gaze of the pirates around him made his skin crawl too much.

The two walked for a couple minutes, his captain's pace slow and assured, his own hesitant and almost afraid. Funny, after so long inside, he was starting to feel too exposed outside his captain's room. Like everyone could see through him and knew how demented he had become.

When the man he was following finally stopped, Dipper nearly ran into him, he was so close behind. When he saw the area that Bill had brought him, he frowned once more.

"Bill...?" Dipper questioned slowly, looking around at the various weapons he saw surrounding them. It had seemed that his captain had transformed the poop deck into an armory, weapons strewn all around the deck. Or a training ground, the boy realized as he noticed the large area in the centre of the weapons that was empty.

When the boy looked over to Bill, he was met with a large grin, the fake one he loathed.

"I had been thinking, Pine Tree. Tell me, how much do you know about sword play?" The man inquired, an eyebrow raised as he walked over to a sword that was resting in one of the racks. Dipper watched as the man picked it up and examined it before tossing it to him. The boy narrowly caught the handle, his frown deepening in confusion.

"I… I know the basics? My parents had me learn, when I was younger, b-but I was never the best?" Dipper confessed, voice hesitant and unsure. He was confused as to where Bill was going with this, looking at the slightly dull blade he now held in his hands.

He watched as Bill nodded, taking his own blade out of his scabbard, the edge wickedly sharp and deadly looking. Even though Dipper wasn't a fan of weaponry, he had to confess that the blade was beautiful. It reminded him a bit of that blade his great uncle had gifted him, the dagger that had been embedded into the deck of The Mystery in the attempt to kill the man before him. Funny how life worked.

"I recall that your form was pretty bad, when you were fighting my men. If I had to guess, I'd say you're better at defense than offense, right?"

Dipper paused for a second, thinking, before nodding his affirmative. He supposed that was true. He had never cared much for fighting, taking lessons only because he was the eldest and only son and heir. But defense… he had always been pretty good at that. He was once told by a tutor that he was very graceful and diligent in his defensive maneuvers, and that even though his attacks were weak, as long as he defended himself like he was he could at least run from a fight mostly intact.

Bill nodded again, before taking his sword and slashing at where Dipper's head would have been, had the boy not instinctively ducked and raised his sword in response. With wide eyes, Dipper looked at his captain, fear and confusion making his heart beat fast, wondering what on earth was going on.

"Good reflexes, kid," Bill commented, before advancing again. Dipper kept backing up, raising his blade and parrying each of Bill's attacks. Occasionally Bill would comment on what Dipper was doing, criticizing his form or telling him what he should have done instead. Dipper still had no idea what was going on, yet was unable to voice his rising confusion as he focussed on doing his best to defend himself from Bill's ruthless onslaught of attacks.

Finally, long minutes later, his captain paused in his attack, head cocked to the side as he examined the boy across from him. Dipper, who had not had this much action in weeks, was panting heavily, back hunched as he tried to regain his breath. The boy's mind was reeling, wondering what was going on and why Bill was doing this. He could tell that Bill was holding back, that he didn't seem to be trying to harm him, yet that didn't make it make any more sense.

"Your form is sloppy, Pine Tree. You keep backing away from me, allowing me the chance to corner you if I so pleased. If this was a real fight, you'd have died in the first five minutes, maybe less. You're stronger than you look, but that will not help you if you do not utilize that hidden strength. I'm going to strike again; this time, do not back away. Stand your ground, even while I come at you. Do not fear, for I will not harm you," the man announced, voice as calm and assured as his movements had been. It reminded Dipper of his instructors as a child.

Before Dipper was able to ask what was going on, Bill attacked again, just as fiercely as before. Again, Dipper raised his blade to defend himself. This time, however, he did not back up or retreat. He parried each thrust, preventing each attack Bill made to cut his arms, legs, or torso. He did not, however, do an attack of his own, even though Bill left himself wide open during some of his attacks. Bill kept up a steady commentary during the pseudo battle, praising when Dipper did something right and criticizing when he messed up.

Eventually the man stopped again, barely breaking a sweat, while Dipper was panting and wiping sweat from his eyes, exhaustion filling his bones.

"Better. But still not good enough. This time, fight back. Counter my moves with moves of your own. Fight me like you would an adversary," Bill said, raising his blade once more. Dipper, however, found his breath and cried out before the blade descended.

"Wait!" The boy exclaimed, heart pounding and mind swirling. He raised his free left hand in a symbol of peace, silently asking for a reprieve. To his relief, his captain did as requested and paused his attack, head cocked and eye unimpressed. Dipper did not care, though. His back was throbbing, his mind ached, and his limbs were heavy and tired. Not to mention the fact he still was uncertain as to why they were having this impromptu sword lesson, or if it was indeed a sword lesson at all. Perhaps Bill was just testing his strength for some unknown reason.

"Yes, Pine Tree?" The man drawled, blade hanging lazily in his left hand while his right arm laid akimbo on his hip.

"W-why are you doing this? I don't… I don't understand," The boy panted, chest heaving as he stared at his captain. The blade he held felt clumsy in his hand, yet he kept his grip on it as best he could, not wanting to drop it and embarrass himself in front of the man.

Bill frowned at him, a pout on his lips that made Dipper's gut lurch despite his exhaustion. He watched as his captain moved some stray strands of hair from his eyes with his right hand, his single golden eye trained on the boy in front of him.

"Why am I doing this? Because, my dear sapling, you are grossly untrained. I, being the highly generous man that I am, have decided to train you! You should feel grateful, Pine Tree. I wouldn't do this for just anyone," Bill claimed, blinking his eye over exaggeratedly in a wink. He was grinning now, in the way that told Dipper he was lying.

Before the boy could call the man out on it, however, Bill raised his sword and attacked once again. Dipper, despite his exhaustion, raised his blade and parried the best he could.

"Now, less chat and more action! You won't get better if you just stand around doing nothing!" The man exclaimed, pressing forward like he had before.

Their mock battle continued for the next hour, Bill calling out tips and advice as he advanced towards the boy. Dipper, getting progressively more tired, did his best to follow the advice the man gave. While he was not perfect, he was at least better than he had been while younger, which he thought was something.

As they fought, however, Dipper had been unable to ignore the pirates who were glaring at them from their posts. It had made him feel highly uncomfortable, their gazes like daggers on his back. It made his skin crawl and his nerves flare. There had been one in particular, however, that made Dipper feel particularly nervous, though he was unsure of the reason.

The man was unassuming, in stature and build. He wore a purple overcoat, his pitch black hair scraggly and unkempt. He was short, shorter than even Dipper. However, something about the way he stared, the way he watched Bill as he barked out instructions made Dipper's blood run cold. He had a calculating stare and a frown that pulled at the scarce whiskers the man had on his lined face. It made him look ancient, even though Dipper assumed the man couldn't have been older than thirty.

Maybe, Dipper had mused during a lull in the 'training', it was the scar the man had. The scar ran from his left cheek up to his right eye, crossing his face at the bridge of his nose, causing a look of perpetual grumpiness to form. It looked ominous on the square face, which made the intense stare even more potent. The man had arrived halfway through their 'training session' and had lingered for the remaining half hour. He hadn't said anything, hadn't approached them, but Dipper knew that Bill knew of the man's presence, as his captain would stiffen whenever he looked up at where Dipper knew the man to be standing.

Now that they were done, Bill grinning his false grin as he rambled about something inane, the man began walking over towards them, his hands behind his back and his pace even and measured.

Dipper- still wary around pirates who were not Bill- found himself drifting behind the tall man, trying to shield himself from view. He noticed that as he did that, Bill drifted casually in front of him, shielding the boy further, like he had had a similar idea as Dipper. He found he didn't mind, especially when it protected him somewhat from that violet gaze that seemed to look straight into his core.

"Theodore! To what do we owe this marvelous delight?" Bill inquired, voice positively sunny and cheerful. A tone of voice Dipper had not heard before. He imagined it sounded even more terrifying than the man's dark hisses and quips.

The man in purple said nothing at first, simply continuing to stare at Dipper. The boy felt his captain shift to shield him further from view, which caused relief to rise in him, as the gaze unnerved him more than he cared to say. It was only then that the man shifted his gaze from Dipper to Bill, violet eyes filled with an emotion Dipper could not name. Like anger, yet more restrained. Exasperation, perhaps?

"I see you are takin' your pet out for a walk," the man stated moments later, once the silence had nearly consumed them all. Dipper felt a speck of indignation rise in him at the words, despite the fear and worry that was rushing through his veins. Pet?

Pushing the indignation down, knowing it would do him no good, the boy felt as Bill shrugged, seemingly nonchalant. He would have believed the act, had he not felt the tension coiling in the man's back. It made him wonder just who the man in purple was that Bill seemed so wary of him. The rest of the pirate ship seemed to have gone silent, the sounds of the milling pirates quieting as the two men spoke. It was like the entire ship was holding its breath, awaiting the words the two men were about to speak.

"I thought he could use some fresh air. You know how boys get, constantly needing sunlight and clean air. Remind me, how are your children doing, Taddy?" His captain inquired, voice sharp and piercing, yet still under the guise of being pleasant. Dipper could see as the smaller man froze, eyes flashing with concealed rage. Seemed Bill had struck a nerve.

"Dead. As your boy will be, if you keep goin' on like this," the man hissed through clenched teeth, his scar causing his face to distort into something almost grotesque. Something… demonic. Dipper felt himself shudder, both at the look and at the words. Part of him wanted to speak up, wanted to defend himself, but he knew better than that. He would just mess up and make things worse.

"You making threats?" Bill bit back, mouth stretched wide in a pinched grin that Dipper could practically hear. The boy felt as a warm hand gripped the side of his hip gently, his captain reaching back to ensure that he was safely behind him. Dipper pressed closer to him in response. He knew he looked like a pathetic maiden in his actions, but part of him didn't care. The man in purple made him feel off inside, like an intruder in a private conversation. Someone who didn't belong. It was off putting. As was the conversation he was being forced to listen to, yet there was nothing he could do about that.

"Simply makin' an observation, Cipher. Your men are not pleased. Walkin' on thin ice, Cipher. An' even your fancy speakin' won't save you if you keep at it this way," the man warned, eyes flashing with repressed anger and disgust. Bill stiffened in front of him, body shifting as he stood up straight.

"I thought we had gone over this, Theodore! Isn't it tiring, going over the same thing over and over again?" His captain questioned, still under the guise of pleasantness. But Dipper could hear the tears and frays in the tone, the pleasant tone filled with icy undertones. It made the boy shiver to hear.

"That was before you decided ta start trainin' the boy, Cipher. In plain sight. What did you expect ta happen?" Theodore rejoined, striding forward so he was directly in front of Bill, who stiffened farther than he had before. "'M on your side, Bill. Truly, I am. Yet you can't keep doin' this. Doin' whatever you want, carin' not for th' consequences. You forget that while you may be captain, you do not have unlimited power. We let you get away wit' a lot, as you are a brutal captain an' th' best this ship has ever seen. But do not think we will not put you back in your place. Even if it's at th' expense of your little pet there."

"Touch him and I will kill every single one of you," Bill growled immediately in response, all pretenses gone. Dipper felt his captain push him further behind him, his height completely blocking him from view. It made Dipper feel warm that his captain cared about him this much. It was better than the chill he felt from the words 'Theodore' was spewing.

"Do you really think you can?" The man asked, his voice almost amused. Dipper wished he could see, but Bill's shielding went two ways. "Not even you can fight off fifty men at once, Cipher. An' no ship would take you if you offed your own crew. Now, I'm tryin' ta help you, Cipher. Fall in ta place, an' we won't have any more issues. Simple as that."

Bill's chest was heaving, his hands shaking with a repressed rage. Dipper couldn't see, but he imagined that Bill's eye was molten heat at the moment, so intense he was surprised that Theodore didn't combust where he stood.

Filled with a morbid curiosity, Dipper peered out from behind Bill, glimpsing at the diminutive man who was speaking so casually to his captain. Theodore looked almost bored, but his eyes gave him away. He was afraid. Perhaps he knew that, if Bill so wished it, he would kill each and every one of them and never be held accountable for it. Dipper never thought he'd be vindictive enough to feel almost smug about the fact.

"I am your Captain. I have brought this ship and its inhabitants more wealth than any of you could ever _dream_  of. You think you can control me? Well, _mate_ , I can guarantee that you're not going to like the consequences if you have the gall to try," Bill hissed after a tense moment of pregnant silence. Theodore hesitated, before taking another step forward, so that he was practically toe to toe with Bill.

"You may be captain, but you do not have absolute power. Part of your agreement, Cipher. You listen ta your crew, you do not make decisions without our consent. That boy is cloudin' your judgement. Th' crew doesn't know where your loyalties lie anymore. They're wary, Cipher. Don't make them strike out. Because trust me, _mate_. You won't like the consequences if they do."

Silence overtook them after that, Bill still shaking with repressed rage while Theodore looked on with paper thin, pseudo nonchalance. Dipper, meanwhile, had no idea what to feel, the whole conversation making his head hurt to think about. He mostly felt numb, but that was a common emotion for him nowadays.

Finally, after many long minutes passed, Bill looked away from the man, transferring his glare onto nothing but empty space.

"Very well, Strange. But I am still going to train the boy. Bring it up with the crew, if you so wish. I will explain my reasoning later, not here. Those are my terms. Do you accept?"

A pause. Dipper could hear the smaller man let out a long breath of air, saw a look of weariness pass over his face.

"Have I any other choice?"

"Not really."

Theodore shook his head, backing away with a look of resignation.

"Then fine. I'll see what I can do. But I will tell you this, Cipher. There will come a day I will not be able ta restrain the crew, if you follow this path you're determined ta travel on. On that day, you will have to decide something. You'll have to figure out which matters more ta you; this boy you've known less than a month, or your crew that has stood by you for over four years? Think on this, Cipher. Think long and hard," the man warned, before turning and walking away, leaving Dipper and his captain behind him.

It was long minutes later that Bill finally moved, grabbing Dipper's wrist and leading him back to his quarters in rigid silence. Dipper felt cold inside again, his heart frozen in his chest. So much had happened, so much that made very little sense to his already addled mind. Not even the stares from the pirates they passed made him feel anything.

Once they were finally back inside the room, Dipper watched as Bill let his rage out, grabbing various items around the room and hurling them at the walls. This went on for a while, Bill's rage unparalleled and absolute. All the while, Dipper watched on, not afraid of what his captain was doing. He no longer feared that this man would harm him. Or maybe he just no longer cared.

When the man finally, finally began to calm, Dipper approached him, footsteps slow and cautious. His captain's back was to him, but the boy could see the strain in the hunched muscles. With only a slight hesitance, Dipper wrapped his arms around Bill's middle, resting his cheek against the man's back. He felt the man start, felt him try and pull away, but Dipper wouldn't let him. Eventually the man relaxed in his grip, leaning back into the boy's embrace.

"This is all your fault, Dipper. You caused this," Bill whispered after several moments, voice raw and shot. Dipper, not having any words, simply gripped the man tighter, pressing his face into the musty jacket that the man constantly used. Even if he had the words, he wasn't sure he would have been able to speak them. His throat felt much too large to allow speech to escape. It seemed he could do nothing right.

After a while he felt Bill pull away again. He let the man go that time, unable to find the strength to keep the man close to him. He was feeling wrong inside again, his heart stiff and aching. He didn't want to acknowledge why it hurt so much.

He watched as Bill wandered around his quarters and began to pick up the items that he had thrown, tossing away the ones that had broken. Once the man was finished, he headed for the door, his footsteps faltering and slow. Not like the usual swagger he usually walked with. It felt wrong to see.

Right before he exited the room, Bill paused and looked back at Dipper, his eye dull and empty. It made the boy shiver to see, far more terrifying than any amount of rage could ever be.

"Don't leave this room," Bill said flatly, before sweeping out the door with nary a backwards glance, the door shutting soundly behind him.

With shaking legs, Dipper stumbled towards the lounge, taking a seat slowly, looking at the wrists that were, for once, completely bare. He then looked out the window, seeing a glimpse of the blue sky from his seated vantage point. Funny, here he was, unchained, yet he had no desire to escape. He felt like he would cry due to how funny life was.

He wasn't Dipper Pines, he decided. Not now. Not here, not in this room. How could he be? Dipper Pines was braver than this. Dipper Pines would never allow a pirate to take control of him so utterly that he didn't even want to take the chance to escape when offered. He wondered who he was, now. Now that he wasn't Dipper Pines. Now that he was an imposter. Now that he had fallen in love with a pirate captain, a pirate captain who may or may not feel the same thing. Who may or may not be facing repercussions for said feelings. Who may or may not decide that he wasn't worth the worry or the hardship. Who was he? What a very good question.

He was tired. So, so tired. He had thought that things would be better now. That giving in had been the worst thing he would have to do, that he wouldn't feel so broken anymore. Stupid. Closing his eyes, the new, Not Dipper laid down, curling into a ball and trying to keep from screaming at the injustice of it all.

After a while, he started to drift off to sleep. He was just so, so tired. Part of him wondered if it would be better if he just stayed asleep forever. At least then he wouldn't have to deal with the ice that had taken over his heart.

His last thought before drifting off to sleep was a plea.

 _Mabel… please forgive me_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. I realized I didn't go over this before. If anyone was wondering, the pirates are wary of Dipper because they don't know what he and Bill are doing. They don't know if Dipper is attempting to get Bill to change sides, or to kill them all, or anything. Bill is acting a lot different to how he used to and the crew is highly concerned. At least, that was how I thought it while writing. Basically, pirates are a cautious bunch and don't like their captain doing things that they don't know about. 
> 
> Also, Dipper is scared. The conversation scared him a lot. In the room, he was able to mostly forget about reality and the harshness that went with it. Now, he's forced to realize that there is more at play than just being a 'good prisoner.' Not to mention the fact that Bill is hiding things from him. As for Bill... well, we'll figure out why he's giving Dipper sword lessons next chapter.


	18. The Waiting Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So, I was able to get this written. I had considered waiting until I was done with the story to post, but I wanted to get what I had out before the series ended. So here. 
> 
> Why am I posting on a Wednesday? Mostly because it's my birthday, and I wanted to at least get something done for this story today. 
> 
> The next update might take a while... I've not even started, and it's the climax of this whole story. I also now have a job (I hope at least) so that might eat into my time, but we shall see. I want to finish this story by April, at the very latest, so that is something. 
> 
> This chapter is pretty short, mostly because it's setting up the next chapter, which as I said is the climax. I also was unable to spend all that much time editing, since I wanted to get this out ASAP, so please tell me if you see any mistakes.
> 
> Anyway, that's about it... please remember to review! I just want to see how many people are still ready, just for curiosities sake.
> 
> Enjoy!

They continued sword training for the next three days.

Every day at dawn Bill would wake Dipper up and together they would walk out to the back of the ship, where they would take up a sword, Dipper listening to Bill's instructions. The work was difficult, but not impossible. Dipper even found that he was getting better, his dodging excellent and his attacks getting stronger by the day. His heart soared every time his captain would smile at him or compliment his technique.

Once they were done with practice, at about lunch time, Bill would escort Dipper back to their room, where they would share a meal before Bill went to take control of the ship, while Dipper would spend the next several hours wandering the quarters.

Now that he was allowed free-range of the room, he had spent most of his time exploring. Some places were locked, like the chest in front of Bill's bed, blocking his entrance. It piqued his curiosity, but he let it be, not wanting to upset Bill by asking and potentially overstepping his bounds. Besides, he was allowed to look at the books that Bill had collected in the chest in his wardrobe, which kept his interest enough. He supposed.

At the moment he was taking advantage of his new found freedom, a book in his hand as he lounged casually on the lounge. He was doing his best to read one of the books that he had found in Bill's closet, the story having sounded interesting from the pages he had skimmed. However, even with the book in front of his face, he couldn't help his mind from wandering, his worries flooding his mind.

Now that he was unchained, things should have been better, Dipper thought as he stared blankly at the page in front of him, yet for some reason he could still feel… wrongness in the air. For instance, during his and Bill's practice, members of the crew would stop and watch them fight, but it was no longer with mistrust. Instead, it was with a weird, sick sort of… _anticipation_ , their wide grins causing Dipper's skin to crawl. It was like… like they knew something he didn't. Like he was the butt of a prank that was about to happen.

Whenever he asked Bill, heart clenching with worry, his captain would simply reply with a smile and tell him not to worry. Needless to say, Dipper did. He tried not to, really he did, but it was difficult when Bill was clearly keeping something hidden from him. For it was obvious the man was hiding  _something_ , by the way he held his eyes, the way he didn't look at Dipper long before looking away. However, even though it bothered him that Bill was hiding things from him, he didn't feel confident in voicing his complaints. After all, while he may be unchained, it wasn't like he was free or anything. He wasn’t stupid enough to ever entertain _that_  idea. So he kept his unease to himself and did his best to convince himself that he was just imagining things.

It was really hard though, when he thought of how distant Bill had been over the past few days. He touched him less, kissed him less. It made Dipper's insides squirm, wondering if he had done something wrong. If confessing how he felt had been a mistake. Or… if it had something to do with the secret his captain was keeping from him. Neither option boded well for him, really. Not to mention the fact he missed Bill's closeness.

Everything combined together, it was clear that things had become tense and almost awkward. Dipper frowned at the book he was holding, squirming as he thought this. It was off putting, how anxious he felt most days now, like he was just waiting for the shoe to drop. He kept trying to lose himself in the book he held with a death grip, wanting to ignore his thoughts, but for some reason the words weren't as soothing as they usually were.

Shaking his head, he tried one last time to force himself to turn back to the book, doing his best to keep the panic and worry out of his heart and to successfully lose himself in the book. The words he was reading were interesting, he knew they were, but no matter how hard he tried his mind refused to focus. That just gave more evidence to the fact he was no longer Dipper Pines, he supposed. Dipper Pines had always been able to focus on books, even in the worst of times. This thought just made him feel even worse, which made reading that much harder.

Several more minutes passed before Dipper finally gave up, putting the book aside with a soft groan. He leaned back against the lounge he was sitting on, staring up at the illuminated ceiling. It appeared that he would be unable to get into the book until he had worked things out in his mind. How wonderful.

Right then. Okay. So, it was clear he was not doing okay. He could see that, logically. He wanted to pretend, wanted to have the luxury of being able to pretend, but he couldn't. Not now. Not when Bill was lying and things were going on that he had no idea of.

There was also the problem of his captivity. In this moment, it was easy to remember that he was a prisoner, no matter that he was unchained. For one thing, he desperately missed home. But more than that, he missed his sister. Yes, he loved Bill, but… but he didn't know what he wanted more. Bill? Or his family? He… he didn't know. And the worst thing was, he could escape. Right now, or when Bill was sleeping, he could get out of the cabin and onto a rowboat. It would work. But he… he still didn't know if he wanted to. If he escaped, he'd never see Bill again. And was that really worth his freedom? He hesitated a moment, eyes wide and mind racing. Was freedom worth losing Bill? Was… was his family worth more than his lover?

No, he decided after several moments, staring at the ceiling. His freedom- his family- was not worth leaving Bill. Bill was his savior, his everything. And as for his family… it was regrettable, that he had to give up hope of ever seeing them again, but it was worth it to be with Bill. It had to be worth it. Because if it wasn't… if staying here with Bill wasn't worth it… but it was. It was. Bill would _always_  be worth it.

Even if he wasn’t quite sure if that was true anymore.

With that settled, Dipper went back to his book, ignoring that last thought. Everything else would work out, he knew it. Once Bill got over whatever it was that was bothering him, things would be fine.

And besides, he thought forcefully, the book really was interesting, about a man who was shipwrecked on an island. It was bizarre, but he found he was enjoying it. It was much more interesting than going over his issues. Obsessing over issues never helped anyone, but reading did. Reading made everything better.

For an hour Dipper read, struggling to keep his dark thoughts out. The light in the room grew darker and darker, the sun setting and casting the world in orange dusk. He read the book, kept his mind focussed, refused to worry or panic. All he needed was to survive the next several days, somehow he knew that. After that, everything would be better. As long as he believed that, things would be easier to deal with.

Once the room was bathed in darkness, the only light coming from the little lantern that sat on Bill's table, Dipper felt the ship slowing to a stop to anchor for the night, like it did every night. As it stopped, he could feel his heart beat faster with anticipation, knowing that his captain would be arriving soon. He didn’t quite know if the anticipation was positive or negative.

Before he even had time to think or mentally prepare, the door opened up, his captain silhouetted in the doorway with bright lamp light haloed around him, showcasing the hard lines and angles of his captain’s face. Dipper felt his lips curve up in a smile despite himself, happy to see the man who caused such conflict inside of him, even as he simultaneously felt his stomach drop.

"Hey Bill," Dipper said casually, pushing down any off feelings inside of him. Don’t think of it, he told himself, don’t entertain those thoughts. He felt his heart clench when he saw Bill's weary smile, but he told himself it was just out of concern for his captain. Of course it was. Not worry at why his captain would be weary, not panic over what it would mean for him. Just concern.

"Hey there, Pine Tree. Have fun while I was out?"

"Yeah. Just, uh, reading one of the books you have."

Bill nodded his head, saying nothing else as he walked over to his wardrobe, removing his gloves as he went. Dipper watched him, wondering briefly what to say. Funny; he used to be able to speak to Bill so freely, now it felt stifled somehow.

"You like it?"

"Um, yeah. It's pretty good."

More silence filled the room as Bill walked over to his bed, taking his jacket off and hanging it up on the corner of the canopy.

"We should probably get to bed, sapling. We have a big day planned tomorrow," Bill stated as he pulled back the covers of the bed, looking expectantly at Dipper, who felt his heart start to beat faster.

Ever since Bill had stopped chaining him up, he had been spending the night in Bill's bed. Not doing anything other than sleeping, like part of him yearned for, but it was still more than he had ever had before. Yes, he had spent the night in his sister's bed, holding her as she cried, but this was different. Much different.

He couldn't say it wasn't pleasant, though. Bill's heat was soothing in the night, his presence comforting and relaxing. He slept better with Bill than he did while on the floor, at the very least. So, even as his heart pounded, his heart betraying the mild fear he felt, he stood on shaky legs and walked to the blood red sheets that his paramour was holding back, allowing him to climb into the bed first. He felt the bed dip as Bill climbed in with him, his breath catching as he felt an arm wrap around him. It was like a warm band of heat locked around his stomach, tight but not too tight. Funny how he sometimes imagined it as a worse chain than the actual chains he had once been trapped under.

"Goodnight, Dipper," he heard a tired voice murmur into his hair, eliciting a small smile to rise on the boy's face. It was nice to hear his name. Even if he wasn’t Dipper anymore. The ghost that lived inside of him thought it was quaint.

"'Night, Bill," he murmured back, relaxing into the warm embrace.

He listened as Bill's breathing evened out, the man’s exhaustion catching up to him. Dipper remained awake for a little while, however, determined to savor the contact. With everything happening, this was the only time that he had where Bill was this close to him, since the man had become distant with each day that passed. It was all he had now, so he might as well enjoy it.

He also wasn't quite used to this, even though they had been doing it for the past three days. After all, it didn't really help that Bill hadn't really spoken about it, that first day; had instead just looked at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. That was why the first time had been almost awkward, Dipper lying stiff as a board until Bill had thrown his arm around him and whispered that he should relax. By now it felt almost routine, but not quite. Dipper still felt hesitant, like any wrong move would make this whole thing collapse. He stayed awake, not wanting to wake up and find that he had done something wrong. He was so afraid of doing something wrong.

Eventually he drifted off, his exhaustion too much to stay awake much longer. No one could stay awake forever, he supposed. To his dismay, though, his dreams once again were full of fire. After days of having mundane, ordinary dreams, the dream of fire was unexpected and worrisome.

Instead of watching his family burn, however, like he always had before, he saw Bill. Not screaming, not crying, simply standing and staring with his piercing gold eye, watching coolly from within the orange and blue flames. Like he was the one controlling it while Dipper burned instead. When Dipper woke, taste of ash thick on his tongue, his heart was pounding and he wondered what the dream meant. If it meant anything at all.

"You alright, Pine Tree?" A sleepy voice asked, the arm around his waist pulling him a bit closer. Dipper let out a breath of air, doing his best to control his racing heart. It wouldn’t help to let Bill know how shaken he was, how worried he was. It wasn’t like Bill would do anything about it, anyway.

"I'm fine," he replied as steadily as he could, not sure if he would be able to say much more. His dream had shaken him greatly, though he couldn't quite explain why. He should be used to the fire by now.

He felt Bill hum behind him, the vibrations radiating through his back. He let out a soft sigh, pressing farther back into the warm body behind him, hoping things would go back to normal soon. Whatever 'normal' was, around here. This fear and anticipation was not healthy. All he wanted was to be content. Was that really too much to ask?

"Time to get up, Pine Tree. We're reaching our destination tonight, so we need to be ready," he heard Bill say, before the man pulled back to get up. Dipper considered protesting, his mind sluggish and tired, but ultimately decided that it wasn't worth the trouble, dragging himself out of bed as well. Not to mention he was a bit curious what Bill meant by that. Be ready for what?

Since the boy only had the one shirt and trouser set, he simply waited as Bill changed his clothing, turning respectfully with a blush when the man changed his trousers. Part of him wished he had clean clothes to change into- his white pine tree shirt looking more grey than white at this point- but he supposed he could live. Maybe one day he could convince Bill to get him something new to wear. He was going to be here for the rest of his life, after all. He tried not to let that thought ruin his mood.

Once his captain had finished changing, the two ate a quick breakfast of dried fruit, before they exited the cabin and went over to the poop deck, where the usual array of weapons were strewn. So far Dipper had used a few different types and lengths of swords, Bill trying to figure out which would be the best for him. Thus far, it appeared he was best with the cutlass, the blade fitting the best in his grip. He picked up the one he had felt best with, the weight not throwing him off balance like what had happened with a couple others.

For the next hour they fought, Dipper getting more aggressive as Bill demanded it of him, letting out his frustrations and fears. He had always been decent at sword fighting, but with the past four days of training he could say that he was finally good. Not great, but good. Good enough for Bill to smile at him halfway through and tell him he was almost ready.

"Ready for what?" Dipper had asked, only for Bill to smile and change the subject. Like he was wont to do, it seemed.

Ominous praise aside, the training went pretty well. The man in purple didn’t even show up this time, which Dipper considered a plus. Once done, they went back to their room to eat lunch, gruel with preserved berries. It tasted alright, he supposed, but Dipper found he had a hard time swallowing. He tried his hardest not to think of why his throat was so thick.

When breakfast ended, Bill left to go navigate the ship, leaving Dipper to his own devices. Which was fine with the boy. Being around Bill now just felt tense, leaving him anxious and upset. He was missing how things were just days before, back when Bill wasn't as reserved and aloof. Back when things were okay.

To distract himself, he continued the book he had been reading, cannibals entering the scene. Truly a bizarre book, but interesting. Kept his attention well enough, at least.

All he could do now was wait. He had a feeling that something big was happening, something that would change everything. He remembered Bill's words from earlier, stating that they were reaching their destination that night, and he couldn't help but feel apprehension even as he read. Everything that was going on, Bill's distance and the crew’s dark grins- they all traced back to this destination of Bill's. The destination that his captain refused to tell him about. Now, he may be a bit naive, but Dipper was never stupid. He knew that Bill was keeping he destination a secret for a reason. But what reason, was yet to be seen.

He'd figure it out eventually, he thought morosely as he read the words on the page.

Probably when he least wanted to.

That was how things always went, wasn't it?


	19. The Final Showdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! 
> 
> Hey everyone! Sorry this took so long to write; I've been very busy, with apply to college and with school work, and whatnot. But I'm finally done! Not just with this chapter, but with the whole story (well, excluding the epilogue, but I want to write that after seeing how you guys respond to the ending.) I originally was going to have this chapter and the next one connect, but I was able to find a good stopping place and I took it. I will apologize in advance, though. You'll see why. 
> 
> Also, this chapter might seem a bit disconnected, but that's mostly because I wrote it over the span of several days. I did my best to edit this chapter, but... Well, I finished this last night, so I've not had that much time to edit. The only reason I was able to finish, by the way, was because I had an audition for a summer camp that took several hours, hours in which I was stuck doing nothing. So thank goodness for that, eh? 
> 
> Anyway! I wanted to take this time to thank everyone who has stuck with me thus far. I know I'm not the best writer in the world, but I'm doing my best. I've even managed to pass 600 kudos on AO3, which was a goal of mine, so thank you all so much! 
> 
> Please remember to comment/review! They let me know how you feel. 
> 
> Enjoy!

"Dipper. Wake up," a soft voice called, accompanied by a gentle shake of his shoulder. The boy scrunched up his face, turning over into the soft sheets below him.

"Not now, Mabel. Let me sleep," the boy slurred, closing his eyes even tighter to hold onto the warm tendrils of sleep he still felt so keenly. He couldn't remember the dream he had been having, but he knew that it hadn't been awful, might even have been warm. Part of him wanted to return to it. Distantly he heard a soft snort, before the blankets were ripped off his body, the frigid air forcing his eyes wide open, his mind suddenly wide awake.

"Sorry, Pine Tree, but we're on a bit of a schedule. And I'm not your sister," a dry voice said, a hint of humor coloring it. With bleary, confused eyes, Dipper squinted up at the face that was hovering over his, blinking at the bright gold he saw. It was then he remembered where he was, his heart plummeting even as he smiled at the face above him.

"Oh. Hey Bill. Sorry, I, uh… was tired." Still was tired, but he knew better at this point than to argue with his captain when he wanted something to be done. He looked over at the window that was across from the bed, frowning when he saw the absolute darkness outside.

"Uh, Bill? Why did you wake me?" Dipper questioned, sitting up and stretching his limbs. His sleepy eyes watched as Bill grinned at him, that same manic and sharp grin that was so utterly wrong. His eye had a gleam in it, one that spoke almost of desperation. It woke Dipper up completely, concern flooding him as he wondered what was bothering the man who held his heart.

"We’ve arrived at our destination. Sorry to wake you, but we can't wait for the morning, not for this," Bill grinned, his teeth gleaming in the lantern light. Dipper couldn't help but feel disturbed, a small shutter travelling unbidden through his body.

"And what exactly is 'this?' Bill, what is going on? You've been keeping a secret these past several days, and I'm getting kind of worried," Dipper spoke, his sleep-addled mind not stopping him in time like it usually did. Luckily, Bill did nothing but continue to grin, so wide Dipper was sure the man's face must be hurting something fierce.

"You'll see very soon, Pine Tree, don't you worry. Now, get up. We've got work to do."

With those words Bill stood up, striding over to the chest he kept in front of his bed. Dipper watched with sleepy eyes as the man opened it and took out a pistol and some bullets, as well as his captain's hat. Once Bill was done, he looked up at Dipper and raised an eyebrow.

"Well Pine Tree? Are ya coming?"

Despite his exhaustion, Dipper scrambled up, wincing slightly as his muscle pulled. With a yawn, he looked once more at the darkness outside.

"Bill? What time is it?" The boy asked, curious as to how early his captain wanted them to do whatever it was they were doing. He knew he had gotten to sleep at a little before twenty-three hundred, but he felt like he hadn't gotten any rest at all.

"Oh, about three!" Bill chimed cheerfully, grinning at the boy. Dipper, in response, groaned. So he had gotten four, maybe five hours of sleep. How wonderful. His response just made his captain grin wider, so Dipper kept any further complaints to himself.

The only good thing about all of this, Dipper thought as he followed his captain out of the cabin, was that he would finally find out what was going on. Why Bill had been avoiding him, why the crew was acting so strange around him. He'd finally have an answer. He just hoped that the answer wouldn't injure him beyond repair. After all, some answers were better off not discovered.

Once out of the cabin, Dipper was forced to squint to see, the all-encompassing darkness that laid outside too thick for his eyes to adjust to. He felt his arm get grabbed, Bill gently tugging him over to the right. As they walked, Dipper was able to make out a single lantern hanging above the door to the below decks, which appeared to be their destination.

As he followed Bill over to the ladder, Dipper was surprised to see the majority of the crew standing around the entrance, their weapons drawn and their bodies fully clothed. For a moment, his mind still muddled and confused, Dipper was afraid that they were going to kill him. Then he noticed that they were all looking at Bill expectantly, ignoring him completely as they shifted their bodies to put their attention fully on their captain. Dipper, with little else to do, followed their lead and looked up at his captain, eyes full of confusion and slight fear. Bill, however, did not look down at him, looking instead at his collective crew.

"Alright men. So we all know the plan, right? In, out. Kill everyone who gets in your way. Burn the ship on our way out. You know, the usual. Got it?" Bill stated quietly, his golden eye flittering from one man to another. The other pirates nodded, voicing their consent as one with wicked grins on their faces, grasping their weapons tightly in their hands. Bill grinned sharply in response, eye gleaming in the pale lantern light.

"Good. Now, if any of you find the map, bring it directly to me. We're not leaving without either the map, or the treasure," Bill remarked, glancing over the crew once more before turning to go. He paused a second later, however, and turned back with a dark grin. "Oh, and remember; leave the captain to me."

With that, Bill turned and sauntered away, the men dispersing as well to their usual position. Dipper, still as lost as ever, hurried after his captain, his heart thudding in his chest. From what he had heard, it sounded… it sounded almost like they were raiding a ship. But… but Bill wouldn't do that, would he? Not when he was there. Right?

"S-so Bill! Uh, w-what's going on?" Dipper asked nervously once more, knowing it was futile but still hoping against hope he'd actually get an answer this time. He felt his heart drop when Bill just grinned down at him. In the darkness, all Dipper could see was a single eye and a row of sharp, glittering teeth. It made for a formidable sight.

"Never you mind, Pine Tree. Just stick close to me and you'll be fine," Bill stated, continuing to walk to the port side of the ship. Dipper continued to follow, though part of him was wanting to run back to the cabin and forget everything. Bill wouldn't really bring him along on a raid, would he? No. Bill… Bill wouldn't do that. Not after learning about Dipper's past. Bill wouldn't do that to him. He wouldn't. He _wouldn't_.

Once the two reached the port side of the ship, Bill handed Dipper something without even looking at the boy. Dipper realized as he grabbed the object that Bill must have been carrying it the entire time without him having realized it, the darkness masking the thin object. Dipper found that he was not surprised when he examined it in the pale light and saw that it was the sheath to the sword he had been practicing with for the past several days. Somehow, he had expected it, though he couldn’t help the feeling of utter horror that washed over him. Dear God, he thought desperately, what was about to happen? Dipper had a feeling that he really, really did not want to find out.

Dipper waited with bated breath as the pirates got ready around them, men milling around with focussed energy. It was so synchronized, it was like that had done this a million times before. Probably had, Dipper thought morbidly, gazing at the sheath he carried in his hand, the deadly blade hidden within. He was no fool. He knew what was going on. He just had no idea what it had to do with him. Well, technically that was a lie. He had an idea. He just was praying to any god that was listening that his idea was false. Because, if Bill was really expecting him to participate in a raid… well, he didn’t even want to think of it. Too bad he might end up having to.

As the other pirates got ready, Bill simply stood at the side of the ship, gazing at the open ocean, an expression of concentration on his face. Dipper followed Bill’s gaze and also looked out at the ocean, part of him hoping to be calmed by its usually soothing presence, yet he found that he could not even see the waves below. The darkness was so absolute, the moon and stars obscured by thick, angry clouds. Dipper could barely see anything, let alone the ocean. Somehow, he felt that this was an omen for what was to come.

After a while a thin man with shocking red hair came up to Bill and whispered softly into his ear. Dipper watched as Bill cocked his head to the side, considering something, before nodding quickly. The thin man nodded back and left, stalking in the direction of the helm. Dipper, confused as ever yet starting to become resigned to the feeling, looked away from the thin man and back up at Bill, who was grinning down at him.

"That was the navigator. He'll be steering the ship while I'm… busy," Bill explained, an excited glint in his eye. Like a child at a candy shop, Dipper thought dryly as he looked at his captain. "Looks like we're almost ready, Pine Tree. Just a few more minutes and we'll be there. Stick close to me, alright? Don't want you getting lost."

"… Alright, Bill," Dipper uttered after a long pause, his heart sinking more and more as the minutes passed. Whatever was going on was most definitely not something he was going to enjoy. He'd just have to suck it up, he supposed. This was… this was something he'd have to get used to, if he wanted to stay with Bill. He tried to ignore the bile that rose in his throat at the thought.

Time passed slowly after that, the boy doing his best to not hyperventilate as the ship inched along in the shadow of the moon. After a few minutes passed, The Nightmare got close enough that Dipper was able to see the hazy outline of another ship in front of them, slightly smaller than the one they were on, yet still formidable. It did not remind him of any ship he had seen before, however, in any of the harbors he had been to or while his great uncle traded. It did look beat up and worn down, though, the wood almost rotting if his eyes were not deceiving him. Perhaps an old sailing vessel?

With a frown, the boy looked closer, squinting his eyes to see in the encompassing darkness. It was still too dark to really see, but he was almost able to make out the top of the ship, where any indicating flag might fly. He was curious as to which ship it was they were about to… to pillage, as it would give indication as to what was required of him. Plus, it gave him something to focus on, something to take his mind off his utter revulsion to the present going-ons.

As he was staring out, the clouds parted for a brief moment, light peeking out through the thick mass. He smiled briefly at his luck, the light that was shining just enough that he could catch sight of the flag he was looking to find. Squinting once more, the boy trained his eyes onto the billowing flag, trying to spot the color.

After a moment, the boy finally spotted it, but instead of the triumph he had been expecting to feel at his success, he felt a feeling of dread that chilled him to the soul, his stomach sinking the moment he fully saw the flag the ship bore. His eyes tore over the bright, fiery red flag with golden accents, hoping against hope that his eyes were deceiving him. That it was not that flag.

That it wasn't the flag of the pirate ship that murdered his parents.

Dipper stumbled back a step, having finally processed that it was not a deception of his eyes, his knees weakening and his mind blanking as he realized what this meant. Letting out a soft gasp, he stood in muted horror, the hair standing on the back of his neck. In his mind's eye, all he could see were flames, his nostrils flooding with the scent of his parents' burning flesh. He found, for a brief second, that he was unable to breath, unable to think, trapped in a memory from a year before.

He had seen the flag hung above Town Hall, burned at the edges but still hanging, tall and proud, mocking him with its presence. He had stared at that flag for hours, the King's men too busy to take it down, worrying more about helping those still alive than a simple flag. It had burned into his memory, filling him with a deep rage that he had held inside himself, locked away behind miles of apathy and pain. Now, as he stared at the very same flag, he felt that rage fill him, intermingled with the panic and fear.

Frozen with shock, he continued to stare at the flag even after the light faded away into pitch black, his heart numb and his mind bombarded with pained memories. It wasn't until he felt a hand on his shoulder that he was jolted from his terror, his eyes ripping from the flag he could no longer see. In the darkness he looked in the direction of his captain, the man's face shrouded in shadow, yet the boy could still make out a hint of concern.

"Alright there, Pine Tree?" His captain asked, head cocked slightly to the left. Still in shock, Dipper nodded absently, even though he was far from alright. He felt like he was about to vomit, unsure what to think, about anything. Not only were they about to pillage a ship, but they were about to pillage _that_  ship? _Were_  they even pillaging, or were they here on a social call? Dipper didn't know. He tried to think, to come up with a solution, but his mind had blanked. He was frozen, heart and mind numb and aching.

Bill was unable to offer anymore words because a second later the ship stopped, causing Bill to look ahead, his wicked grin coming back to his face.

"Show time," the man muttered, taking out his cutlass from its sheath. Dipper could only watch with numb curiosity as the man lifted the blade into the air, the silver catching the light from a lantern that had just been turned on behind them. A few moments passed before the cutlass sliced down, the glare of light abruptly vanishing into nothingness. Then, like a call of thunder, a roar rose from their ship, every man screaming as one as they invaded the neighboring ship. Dipper could see as the men swung and leapt across the divide, fire suddenly everywhere as the men abandoned discretion now that they were boarding. Had Dipper not been completely numb, he might have found the process interesting. Terrifying, but interesting. Too bad all he could feel was horror.

He felt his arm get tugged a few moments later, his eyes tearing away from the pirates and finding Bill, his golden eye glowing red in the fire light.

"Come on, Pine Tree. We've got a job to do. Don't worry; I'll make sure you make it out safe. But keep hold of that sword, just in case," the man reassured softly, his eye gentler than the boy had ever seen it. Even with the horror he felt, Dipper found himself slightly comforted by the look, his heart beating again and his mind unfreezing. Taking a deep, though staggered breath, the boy nodded. Much to his relief, a warm hand drifted down to take his a moment later, giving him something to focus on. Twining their fingers, Dipper squeezed gently, turning to the ship that was ablaze with action. Pushing out all thoughts, Dipper carefully followed Bill across a gangplank that must have been placed while he had been distracted, making sure to not let go of his captain's hand.

Aboard the ship, all Dipper could notice were the blinding flames around them, glowing in the hazy night. It was as if the ship itself was on fire, the boy thought, flames from lanterns abundant all around. The acrid stench of smoke filled the air, making the boy gag, his mind trying to bombard him with memories he didn't want to remember. Pushing them down, Dipper followed his captain as the man stalked forward, his own blade held limply in his hand, still sheathed.

The sounds of battle were deafening as the two moved across the ship swiftly, screams of joy and anger echoing across the empty seas around them. It made Dipper shiver, especially when he saw bright red blood flowing onto the deck below, mixing with salt water. Tightening his grip on Bill's hand, Dipper moved closer to his captain, needing to feel his presence close to him. He had no idea where they were going, but Dipper knew that as long as he was with Bill, he'd be safe. Bill would never allow anything bad to happen to him. He was sure of it.

It was as the two were nearly at the ladder to the below decks that he caught sight of a face he recognized, forcing the boy to stop dead in his tracks despite the harsh tug it caused on his arm.

With widened eyes, Dipper stared at the profile of the pirate so familiar to him, the pirate he once saw every night in his sleep. The pirate who had tried to kill him and his sister; the pirate who had assisted in killing his parents. With an eye patch over his right eye, the pirate snarled as he fought against members of Bill's crew, his face aglow in the lantern light. Dipper could feel his arm getting tugged, could distantly hear someone calling to him, but all he could see was that face. All he could feel was panic, fear, and a deep, intense rage. He was once more frozen in time, stuck in a moment that felt far too much like an eternity.

"It's him," Dipper muttered, almost unaware that he had even spoken. He felt the tugging on his arm cease, but he barely paid it any mind. "The man who helped kill my parents."

Long moments passed, Dipper staring at the fight that was taking place. It seemed pretty fierce, Bill's men seemingly fighting to the death. Three against one, though, gave Bill's men an unfair advantage that Dipper couldn't help but revel in. Finally, after an unknown amount of time had passed, Dipper frozen and Bill vibrating anxiously, the man fell, his shirt staining bright red. It seemed that Bill's men would be content with that, starting to move on, but then one looked up at where Bill and Dipper were standing. After a second of debate, the pirate staring directly at Bill, he turned back to the pirate on the ground and stabbed him straight through the heart, killing him instantly. Dipper tried not to acknowledge the sick glee he felt at the sight. He couldn't quite mange to get rid of the nausea in his gut, though.

"There," Bill muttered softly, "he's dead now. Come on, Pine Tree. We need to get going. Now."

Dipper, heart still squeezing in his chest, listened to his captain and followed the man to wherever it was he wanted to go. As he walked, part of him couldn't shake the feeling that he was going to have a new vision in his nightmares from now on. Despite all the death that plagued his young life, he'd never actually seen someone die before.

While Dipper was stuck in his thoughts, skin pale and ghostlike, Bill lead them over to the ship's captain's quarters, taking his gun and shooting the lock, his hand slipping out of Dipper’s. The loud shot broke Dipper from his stupor, causing the boy to stare at the broken door.

"Stay behind me," Bill commanded, flinging the door open so he could enter it. With a saunter, Bill strode forward, grinning sharply at the pirate who stood near the window of the room, tall and seemingly assured.

"Ah, Captain Cipher. Ta what do I owe this pleasure?" The pirate questioned, raising a bushy eyebrow, shifting his body so he could look at the new additions to the room. As the pirate did this, Dipper took his time to look over the man.

The pirate was wearing a dark black jacket- similar to Bill's yet far more shabby- though underneath it was clear his clothes were rumpled, like he had woken up only a few minutes before hand. His face had a long, dirty brown beard and he had long, tumbling curls atop his head, tangled and in disarray. His skin, from what the boy could see in the dim lighting, was cracked and wrinkled from the sun and age. Despite his aged and harried look, however, the pirate stood up straight with his hands behind his back, perfectly portraying nonchalance and boredom. Taking the look in, the boy's skin went paler and his heart stuttered. Oh, he knew who this pirate was. While he had never met him, he had heard tales. Had seen wanted posters, perfectly depicting the monster he had never wanted to meet. Unbidden, his breath hitched in his throat, causing the pirate's gaze to snap to him.

"Oh, an' who is this? Bringin' swabbies with ye on th' job, Cipher?" The pirate's gaze was sharp and the grin on his face was almost feral. Dipper did his best to not shake.

"Thought the boy could do with seeing how a raid works, Hallow. And seeing as how you have something my men and I want, your ship seemed the best option," Bill claimed casually, shrugging as if this all was just a business deal. The other pirate nodded thoughtfully, playing the part.

"Very well. Though, I find that ye will be disappointed, Cipher. That map ye was lookin' fer has been traded. Didn' wan' the hassle o' it, ye see. B’sides, searchin’ fer treasure is a waste o’ time, in me book," the pirate claimed, shifting back to look out at the chaos outside his window. The sounds of battle were softer in here than outside, but not by much.

"Oh, looks like my men will be mightily disappointed, then," Bill drawled, shrugging carelessly. "Good thing that was not the reason why I came here today."

The pirate raised his eyebrows at Bill, before nodding solemnly.

"I see. And what is it ye be wantin' then, Cipher? Gold? Weapons? Aye, but ye could jus' get those ‘bout anywhere. So why come here, specific'lly?"

Bill grinned sharply at the pirate, before lifting his sword, allowing it to gleam in the dim lantern light.

"Why, to have a good ol' fashioned duel, of course!" His captain exclaimed cheerfully, his eye glinting with manic excitement. Dipper took a deep breath and looked away.

"Hm. Well, I s'posse I can't deny ye. To th' death?"

"Is there any other kind of duel?"

There was a pause before Dipper heard the sound of fabric moving, then the heavy sound of boots thunking against hardwood. A soft sigh filled the air, before words filled the empty space. Dipper reluctantly looked up, eyes warily meeting the pirate's visage.

"S’ppose not. Alrighty, Cipher. If ye have a death wish, who am I ta deny ye?" The pirate shrugged casually, lazily taking his sword out from his sheath, the cutlass deadly sharp and pointed. Bill, finally putting away the gun that still lingered in his hands, grinned back and gestured to the doorway.

"Let's get started, shall we? Outside, of course. No need to be all cramped while fighting, am I right?"

With that, Bill sauntered outside, ushering Dipper subtly ahead of him. Dipper could hear the pirate following, his boots thudding against the wooden floor.

Outside, the sounds of battle intensified, the chaos thick around them. The opposing pirate captain looked around, frowning as he saw his men fighting against Bill's, the disheveled pirates struggling to hold their own against the onslaught of attacks. At first they had been outnumbered, the pirates who were still awake standing guard no match for the dozens that flooded their ship. Even now, with the extra pirates flooding in from the below decks, it was clear to Dipper that the opposing ship was struggling to defend itself, the pirates tired from having been awoken so suddenly. He found himself feeling a smidgen of vindictive glee at that.

Dipper was forced to take his eyes off the fighting when he heard Bill's high-pitched voice cut across the battling, causing many of the men to cease and look his way.

"Well, well, well! What a beautiful night for a death battle, eh Captain Hallow?" Bill chirped gleefully, expertly swinging his sword in his left hand, his grin wide and sharp. The opposing captain, however, looked grim, his aged face tight and taut.

"What glee ye take, Captain Cipher. Too much, one would say," the pirate rejoined, brandishing his sword far more subtly than Bill had. The fighting around the two pirates had calmed by this point, the majority of the men watching the two pirate captains with anticipation. There was an isolated fight here and there, but everything was mostly silent, like the world itself was holding its breath.

"I take as much glee as is my right, Captain Hallow! Fighting is such a rush, after all," Bill grinned, before striking. Captain Hallow parried quickly, the blades meeting in a wave of sparks.

With a fluid swing, Bill tore his sword back and swung again, his grin wide, his eye shining. Again the other pirate parried, blocking the strike with a fierce expression on his face.

"That th' best ye got, laddie?" Hallow growled, swinging back at Bill with a fervor. Bill dodged, coming back at Hallow with a quick swipe to his back.

"Not in the slightest!" Bill chimed, looking calm and cool, like he was simply enjoying lunch.

Dipper, forced to watch the two men fight, backed up as far as he could go, his back pressing bitterly against the wooden railing. He could feel splitters attacking his spine, yet he dared not move, the fluid motions in front of him catching his attention. Distantly Dipper noticed that the battles around the two had started up again, Bill's men taking advantage of the lax of attention, pressing Hallow's men back. The boy couldn't focus on them, however, his terrified eyes glued to the two men in front of him.

With another swing, Dipper watched Bill catch the left sleeve of his opponent, warm blood soaking the dirty cloth. Hallow cursed loudly, though he had no time to even look at the wound before Bill swung again, his motions controlled. Hallow barely had time to lift his blade in defense. Bill let out a gleeful laugh, the high sound ringing around the ship, sounding almost supernatural in origin. Shivers crept up Dipper's back.

"Had enough, Hallow?" Bill cackled, his body pressing Hallow's back as far as the pirate could go. Hallow growled once more, pushing Bill back with tremendous strength. Bill stumbled back, but let out another cackle, his eye alight with manic glee. The man found his footing quickly and caught a swing Hallow had released.

Minutes passed, the battle getting steadily more aggressive. All the while Bill kept his grin up, laughing even as he caught a blade to his thigh. Dipper didn't want to keep watching, his heart pounding in his chest, yet he couldn't tear his eyes away.

For a while, everything was going well, the two men seemingly matched in strength. Then, out of nowhere, Hallow struck Bill's legs out from under him, so quick Dipper had barely seen the pirate move. The boy felt his breath stutter to a halt, his eyes wide as he watched Bill lie splayed on the ground, his cutlass scattering a few feet away. Just as Hallow was about to make a killing blow, a cruel grin on his face, Bill took out his dagger and diverted the blade to the right, giving the man enough time to off balance his opponent and roll to the side to where his cutlass had landed. Dipper felt some of his breath return when he saw the grin that was still on Bill's face. As long as he was grinning, he was in control. At least, that's what Dipper wanted to believe.

"Oh, Jacky! That's not playing by the rules! Naughty naughty!" Bill laughed, grasping his sword quickly, turning back to his opponent. Instead of attacking instantly, Bill allowed Hallow to stand and take hold of his sword, his chest rising and falling steadily. Hallow stood as quickly as he could, chest heaving, with his teeth barred.

"We're pirates, William. Thar be no rules," Hallow hissed, his shoulder bleeding profusely. Bill laughed.

"Oh, Jacky, we might be pirates, but we're hardly uncivilized! Not like we're Vikings, eh?"

Swinging, Bill struck Hallow again, sparks flying as the two men battled once more. Minutes passed, the two getting visibly more disheveled. Bill had three gashes; one on his thigh, one on his left shoulder, and one across his chest. He was still grinning, though, so Dipper tried not to feel too concerned. Bill was now, however, fighting with his right hand, which made Dipper wonder which hand he usually fought with, as he seemed just as adept with the right as the left.

Finally, just as the battles around them had started to die down, Bill gained the upper hand. With an upwards thrust Bill managed to cut into Hallow's wrist, causing the pirate to hiss and drop his cutlass. Before the pirate could pick the sword back up, Bill kicked it away, over the side of the ship and into the black ink below. With a thrust, Bill had the pirate on the ground, sword at his throat, grinning like the cat that caught the canary. Dipper felt his breathing start again, taking in a deep, shuttering breath. Finally, he thought. It was over.

Before he could fully relax, though, he felt more than saw Bill turn towards him, that golden eye piercing his skin. Something in the gaze told the boy that whatever was happening next, he would not enjoy it.

"Dipper. Come here," Bill commanded, his face suddenly serious. The grin was still there, but it was less intense. More for show than anything else. Had Dipper not been pressed up against the railing, he would have backed up, training be damned. As it was, it took him several long seconds to unglue himself from the rail, taking small, shaking steps forward. All the while Captain Hallow laid on the back, Bill's sword hovering an inch from his throat. The pirate seemed to know when he was beat, as he did not try to get up. Perhaps trying to bide his time, Dipper thought absently. Or he knew that had he tried to escape, Bill would simply shoot him. Either way.

Finally, after an eternity had passed, Dipper found his way to Bill's side, wide, mahogany eyes trained on his captain's face. Bill had a softer look in his eye than he had while fighting, which put Dipper only slightly more at ease.

"Take out your sword, Pine Tree," Bill said, voice soft and private. Not like he had before, when he was loud enough the whole ship could hear him. This was intimate, meant only for the two of them. It was for this reason alone that Dipper did as his captain asked and took his sword out of the sheath. He barely even thought as he did it, simply doing it because Bill had asked. Like it was almost against his will.

"Face Jackson," Bill commanded, his voice still soft, still soothing and intimate. Dipper did as asked once more, looking down at the pirate captain Bill had at his mercy. The pirate was looking up at the two of them, grizzled face stony and impassive, watching what was happening with sharp eyes. Dipper gazed back with dispassion, heart frozen and cold as he stared at the man who ruined his life. The man who had been the instigator of the murder of his parents. It was only now, staring at the splayed pirate, that he realized this. Before he had been too shocked, too afraid. But now he had the time to let the situation settle in his mind. Now, now he was able to remember who this man- no, _monster_ \- was, what this monster had done to him, to his sister. As he stared down, he felt an intense hatred and disgust fill him, his hand instinctively clenching the hilt of his sword.

Unknown to the boy, as engrossed as he was in the pirate at his feet, Bill was staring at him, taking in the poorly repressed rage and hurt that flooded his face. Had he been watching, the boy would have noticed the small smile the man had on his face, as well as the infinitesimal nod. Yet, the boy was not watching, so when he felt Bill's hand grasp his shoulder, when he felt warm breath caress his ear, he jolted, a minuscule motion noticed only by the man next to him. Before he could turn to face his captain, Bill spoke, soft words that were laced with honey.

"Kill him."

Deadly words spoken with a sweet, forked tongue. Dipper's breath hitched, even as he felt something in him respond to the words, the meaning behind them resonating with something primal inside of him. The boy stared at the monster at his feet, the monster who had taken everything from him. His parents, his sister; his life. The monster who had taken so many lives, who felt no remorse. The monster he hated with every fiber in his body. Without thought, Dipper raised his sword, barely noticing the warmth on his shoulder disappearing. All he noticed was the feelings of anger, of rage, of sadness, and regret, and despair. Feelings that swirled inside of him, feelings that demanded he get what he so rightly deserved.

Revenge was the sweetest dish, after all.

The pirate looked up, a small smirk on his face, eyes flittering from Dipper to Bill. The man spoke words, but Dipper couldn't hear, his mind focussed only on what he was feeling, unable to comprehend anything else. Later he would realize the pirate had been saying, "Really, Cipher, lettin' th' child finish yer job? Can th' boy not have fought me on 'is own? He need 'is cap'n ta fight fer 'im?" But at the moment, the words did not matter. Nothing mattered. Just the blade in his hands and the sweet words echoing in his head. Stepping forward, Dipper raised the sword, his eyes staring deep into pools of black, so dark they seemed to pull light into them. An eternity passed, Dipper's previously frozen heart pounding, the only things that existed in the world the monster in front of him and the weight of the sword in his hand. The time for a decision had come.

Too bad he had no idea what that decision was.

Taking a deep breath, Dipper took one more step forward, so he was towering over the pirate on the ground, blade raised high. The world froze, hanging on this momentous moment.

An exhale. Then, slowly, the blade descended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aha, I'm not a very nice person, am I? Making you wait two months only to end on a cliffhanger. Well, fear not. If enough people ask it, I will consider posting the last chapter tomorrow instead of next week. Personally, I'd like to wait, just to give me more time to edit, but if you really want it I'll post sooner. (Also, this isn't a "Comment or I won't post!!!" type thing. It's more that I'd like to wait, but I understand if you guys want me to post early. Just know that it won't be as edited as it could be.)
> 
> Also, I apologize if the fighting scene was kind of weak. I'm not a big fan of writing action, so I'm kind of iffy at it. I hope it wasn't awful. I also hope the ending didn't seem... rushed or anything. As I said, it originally was going to connect with the next, continuing on in one long chapter, but I felt that it read better split.


	20. The End of the Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! So, the last chapter is finally here! 
> 
> Before anything else, I'd like to thank everyone who has stuck with me for this whole thing. This is, by far, the longest thing I've ever written. Over 110,000 words. Just... wow. So thanks, for reading this story. It means a lot to me that you have enjoyed it. 
> 
> Now, onto my customary hour long author note... So, this chapter. I'm positive at least half of you saw this coming. I will talk more about this later, at the end of the chapter, but I hope that this ending doesn't frustrate anyone. 
> 
> That's about it for now. As said above, I'll talk more later, but for now all I can say is that I hope you guys enjoy this. This is always one of the ways I had envisioned this story ending. I had a couple other endings in mind, but this is the one that made most sense to me.
> 
> Remember to comment or review! They let me know how you feel about this story. 
> 
> Enjoy!

"No."

The word rang out, loud and clear, from the boy standing on the deck. It echoed around, the sounds of battle muffling as the syllable rounded. Following it was the distinct sound of a sword clattering on wood, the clanging creating an echo around the deck.

Dipper looked down at the man on the ground, the man who had done so much to him. The man who had ruined his life without ever actually being present. He could feel the rage in his heart, the hurt, the pain. He could feel the anger and the desire to inflict damage. And yet, as he stared at the man on the ground, the man who was now leering and looking so self-satisfied, he knew he would never be able to take his life. After all, killing him wouldn't bring his parents back. It wouldn't bring his sister back from the darkness she had descended into. All it would do would make him a murderer. And… and Dipper didn't want that. He would never, _ever_  want that.

Besides, he refused to stoop to this monster's level.

"No?" He distantly heard Bill repeat from behind him, incredulous and almost angry. Dipper nodded, slowly and carefully, not taking his eyes off of the pirate at his feet. He didn't think he could speak, his throat tight and hurting.

"Pine Tree, this is the pirate who orchestrated the attack on your family's town. This pirate is the reason your parents are dead! Are you really going to pass this opportunity up?!" Bill demanded, hints of desperation sinking into his voice. Hallow began laughing, then, his laugh hoarse and creaking.

"Ahh, so that be th' reason ye fought me, eh, Cipher? Fer yer li'l whore?"

Hallow silenced a second later when Bill pulled his gun out, training it right between the pirate's eyes.

"Be silent! Dipper, answer me!" Bill growled, his eye trained on the boy. Dipper, however, refused to take his eyes away from the pirate that was now scowling at the pistol hovering feet from his face.

"I'm not a murderer," Dipper whispered, soft, but loud enough for Bill to hear. A moment passed, thick as tar, as Bill processed the softly spoken words. Dipper then heard a quiet inhale, sharp and pained, followed by a desperate gasp. Before the boy could tear his eyes from Captain Hallow to see what was wrong with his captain, he heard the sound of a gun cocking, and then saw as the face he was staring at become little more than bloody pulp on a salt stained wooden floor.

Eyes wide, Dipper felt his knees grow weak, felt them crumble under his weight. He never had the chance to hit the floor, however, because two warm arms grabbed him, gentle yet distant. He distantly felt himself get pulled back, away from the bloody mess that Bill had created. Away from the scene that would forever be ingrained in the boy's memory.

When the two reached the end of the ship, he felt himself get lifted up into strong arms, like he was a child. He allowed it, as he wasn't quite sure he'd be able to walk at the moment anyway, his legs weak and wobbling. He felt like he had been stabbed, like his heart had been ripped into by a cruel monster. He tried to breathe yet could not get more than a desperate gasp in before his throat would close up. It was similar to a panic attack, yet different enough for Dipper to know that it was not panic that he was feeling. No, all he felt was shock. And dismayed disgust.

Once they were back on The Nightmare, Bill swept back to their room, ignoring the sound of the bell that echoed around them which signified to the crew that they should return to the ship. All Dipper could hear was the sound of a gun, forever echoing in his mind. He barely even registered the jostling of being carried, nor did he feel the way the arms that carried him shook slightly, or hear the sounds of heavy breathing from above him.

He did, however, feel as he was placed gently down, getting settled carefully on a soft object, jolting him out of the stupor he had found himself in. He looked up at Bill and saw an impassive face. Eye dimmed, face sallow and grim, Bill stared blankly back, revealing nothing. It was like staring at a statue. It truly was too bad that Dipper would never get to see the look of utter heart break and despair that had laced the face of this very same man for a single split second before the sound of a gun had echoed. As it was, the sight the boy currently saw made him feel sick, made him want to run and never return.

"Why?" Dipper breathed, unable to make a sound louder than a passing summer breeze. Bill shrugged, his face betraying nothing.

"You might not be a murderer, Pine Tree, but I am," Bill monotoned, staring directly into Dipper's eyes before looking away. "I am," He repeated, softer, almost a confession.

Silence reigned, then, overtaking the two with a vengeance. Dipper couldn't tear his eyes away from the captain, even though the man could not bring himself to look up from the floor. Even though the sight of him made something in Dipper wither and die. Like a moth to the flame, Dipper thought dispassionately. Just couldn't turn away.

Bill began to pace then, slow, steady movements back and forth across the small space. Dipper watched him as he went, trying to suppress the emotion that rose inside of him. The sickness and disgust.

It was minutes disguised as centuries later that Bill finally turned to him, face blank and dull.

"You're not a killer," Bill stated, matter-of-fact, his voice as blank as his face. Seeing as it was not a question but a statement, Dipper did not reply, simply continuing to stare at the man before him.

"You never will be," Bill continued when no reply was made. Again, Dipper stayed silent. After all, they both knew the answer to the statement.

With a soft exhale of breath, Bill turned and strode over to the window, gazing out at the black nothingness that waited there. No more words were said; to tell the truth, no more words were needed. Everything that needed to be said was told in the silence that surrounded them.

"One hour. The ship will pass into international waters, where we will anchor for the night. The majority of the crew will be below deck, tending to wounds and resting. The ones awake will not notice, as thick as they are. You will take a bag that I will give you, you will sneak out to where we store the rowboats, and you will row back to land. Do you understand?"

The words came out of nowhere, breaking the familiar silence like one would break a window. Dipper, at first, didn't comprehend what was being said to him. Then, once comprehension slipped in, he didn't believe what he had heard, certain he must have heard wrong. Then, upon seeing the serious expression that Bill was sporting, once the words sunk into his brain and laid eggs, he felt his heart sink to the floor. Without knowing he had done it, Dipper found himself on his feet, body poised for movement.

"What?" He breathed, heart stopping and starting randomly in his chest. When Bill did not reply, Dipper repeated himself, louder. When still no reply came, just a blank stare, Dipper screamed his question, his throat tearing as the single syllable tore from his lips. He didn't want to believe what he had heard, yet he was starting to believe that it was gospel.

"You heard me," was all his companion said, moments later, after silence had returned.

Dipper said nothing, just stared. After all this time, after everything that had happened, Bill was sending him away? Bill was… Bill was telling him to leave? After everything that had happened?! Dipper tried to breathe, but by now he was certain his lungs had simply disappeared. It was the only explanation at this point for why they had stopped working.

He didn't want to leave. Even as the sound of gunfire echoed in his head, even as the sight of a pool of blood that once was a face flashed behind his eyes, he didn't want to leave. Bill was… he was everything. Bill was _everything_. Dipper was _nothing_  without him. Dipper wouldn't be able to live without Bill. Dipper _needed_  Bill, needed him like he needed air. How… how could he just walk away from that? How could Bill ask that of him, after all this time, after everything that had happened?

"How dare you?" Dipper rasped, eyes filling with hurt. "How dare you ask that of me? How dare you send me away now, after ruining me? How dare you?"

Dipper watched as the porcelain mask he was staring at shattered, as naked pain filled the single golden eye that was boring into his soul. Dipper took a breath, only to remember that his lungs were missing.

"What am I supposed to do, Pine Tree? What do you want from me? What do you want from me?!" Bill shouted, grasping a glass and throwing it at the adjacent wall. Dipper tried not to flinch as the glass shattered, raining bits of brokenness onto the floor below.

"I don't want you to send me away, like I'm nothing! Like I mean nothing!" Dipper shot back, trying so hard to not let the tremors that wracked his body be visible.

Bill straightened, looking at the boy with an unreadable gaze.

"I would not be doing this if you meant nothing, Dipper. Don't you dare think this means nothing to me," he whispered, shaking his head slowly. "I had a deal, you know. With the crew. They were angry that I allowed you so much freedom, especially that I was training you to fight, so I told them that I was doing it to train you to become one of us. To become a pirate. I lied a bit and told them that you had expressed an interest in the craft, implied that you would make an excellent swabbie. They ate it up, of course, loving the thought of a new crew member, especially one who was once upper class. But you see, this was your test, Dipper, and you failed. Come morning the crew will be asking for your death, or worse. This is all I can do to keep you alive. Do you understand that? Can you understand that? Because I barely do, yet this is the only option I have. This is all I can do."

Dipper tried to speak, yet his throat was tight. So tight that he thought he might just suffocate and die. He certainly felt like dying, at this moment. He sunk down on the bed that he had previously arisen from, trying to push the lump away. Finally, minutes later, he managed to clear his throat enough to choke out a simple sentence.

"I-I could never be a pirate," he gasped, not the words he had wanted to say, but ones that seemed to be needed. Because it was true. He would never have been able to become everything he had ever hated. Not even to stay with Bill, as much as he loved him. He could never have betrayed himself that much, no matter the hatred that lived inside of him. He watched as Bill let out a self-deprecating laugh, a small, sad smile finding its way on his face. Sliding down the wall he was leaning against, Bill sat on the frigid wooden floor, one leg cocked upwards, looking up at the roof while his arms splayed carelessly.

"You think I didn't know? Of course I did, Pine Tree. I always knew. But I suppose part of me had… well, I suppose a part of me had hoped. That you were as similar to me as you had appeared. Guess not."

The words were spoken without emotion, yet Dipper could see the sorrow on the face he was staring at. Swallowing, Dipper tried to think of something to say, yet nothing came to mind. He had no idea how to make this better.

"So you have to go, Dipper. Do you understand that? You can't be here without becoming one of us. You can't stay a prisoner forever. Either you become a pirate or you leave. I've known that for a while. And, now, we both know what your choice will be, so just do as I say and don't make a fuss. It'll be easier. For both of us," Bill continued after a few moments had passed, that same sad smile showing on his face, making Dipper's heart break. But he knew the man's words were correct. And he hated it.

"Alright," he gasped, "alright. What… what do I need to do? Please… what do I need to do?"

The two spent the next twenty minutes going over a plan, Bill doing most of the talking. Dipper's throat was tight and aching as he watched his captain pace the room, collecting various objects and putting them into a bag, speaking words of how to find land and what to do after he reached the beach. Once done, the two simply stared at each other, unsure what to do then. There was still another thirty minutes, at least, until they reached international waters. Thirty minutes was all they had left with one another. Thirty minutes until they parted ways forever. What could they do? What words could be said that hadn't already been said? What actions could be taken to make this hurt less? Dipper had never loved before, therefore he had never lost a love before. The closest he had ever come was losing his parents, yet this was nothing like that. This was almost worse, since this was a conscious decision on both of their parts. They were willingly choosing this.

In the end, they spent the time lying beside one another, Bill wrapping his arms around Dipper as Dipper tried to remember everything. He wanted to kiss Bill, wanted to touch him everywhere, yet somehow he knew that it would hurt worse in the end if he did. It hit him, then, why Bill had been so distant these past several days. Bill had known what would happen. He had known, and couldn't bear to touch what he would one day lose. This knowledge made Dipper want to cry.

Finally, after what was far too short an amount of time, the ship shuddered to a halt, the anchor falling soon after. Dipper heard as the remaining crew stomped down to their cabins, joining the ones who were resting off an injury. It took about another twenty minutes for Bill to feel like it would be safe enough for Dipper to make his escape, twenty minutes that Dipper spent in silent misery.

When the time came, Bill stood, disentangling himself from Dipper with significant effort. The boy watched as the man strode over to the bag he had packed, lifting it and holding it out. Dipper, despite the desire to stay right where he was and never leave, stood as well and numbly grabbed the bag Bill held out for him.

"Be safe, Pine Tree. Hate for you to get eaten by a sea monster," Bill said as their gazes met, the joking words sounding anything but with how serious the man's expression was. Dipper felt tears come to his eyes for the first time that night, the reality of this all finally hitting him, causing the boy to look down and gasp. After everything, this was it. God, how was he going to go back home now, when he wasn't who he once was? When he wasn't Dipper Pines anymore? When he was leaving a part of himself behind on this ship, the most important part? How could he go back to his old life now that Bill had ruined him completely?

He felt warm fingers touch his cheek, feather light and utterly heartbreaking. The fingertips trailed down his face and under his chin, lifting his face upwards so he could look back into that citrine gaze, so full of emotion that Dipper felt the tears finally spill out, running in twin rivulets down his face. Bill's thumb gently wiped the tears away, causing the boy to gasp softly and close his eyes, more tears leaking out.

"You're so beautiful when you cry, Pine Tree. So beautiful," Bill murmured softly, his warm breath fanning across the boy's face. For once, it was fresh, smelling not of rot or liquor, but of cinnamon and wintergreen. Like the candies Dipper had once eaten as a boy. He felt more tears creep out.

When a pair of lips pressed against his, he pressed back, feeling like he was about to die. He trembled against his captain, his love, his heart, and tried so hard to not crumble to ash. To not shatter into a million pieces, never to be fixed. As it was, he would never be who he once had been. He knew he never would be. Not now. Not again. Not after having loved and lost Captain Bill Cipher.

All too soon the kiss ended and the two parted, a feeling of frigid cold enveloping the boy. The young man who finally knew what it meant to be split in two. So many books made sense now, he thought dimly as he stared through watery eyes at the one person he never wanted to leave.

"You should go, Pine Tree. Go, before the sun rises. If you go east you should hit land in about a day. From there you should be able to find your way back to your family. Then you'll be happy." Bill said softly, fingers trailing down the boy's face in farewell.

Dipper looked at Bill, the man's face showing the sadness he clearly felt, eye dim and glassy. Taking a deep breath that his nonexistent lungs failed to receive, Dipper nodded, grasping the bag tighter and turning to leave. He said no words, as no words would have been enough. Everything he could have said had already been said through actions.

At the door, he had the urge to look back, just once more, but he resisted. He had a feeling that if he did, he'd never be able to leave. So, his face grim and heart aching, Dipper crept out into the office, through memories that would never leave, then out the door and into salty air. The ship was as silent as death, matching Dipper's emotions perfectly.

He moved across the ship in a trance, keeping as hidden as his muddled mind would allow him to be. He somehow found the row boats and climbed in one with shaking hands, heart dead and broken. Part of him was hoping that he'd get caught, that he'd be forced to stay with Bill, yet it didn't happen and he lowered himself into the water below with no resistance. With a shuddered breath, Dipper picked up the oars and began to row away from the ship that would forever hold a part of him. He didn't let himself look back until he was far enough away that he wouldn't get the temptation to row back. Until the ship was little more than a black smudge in the predawn sky. He didn't see the figure standing on the deck, watching the boy row away. Nor did he see the figure turn and head down to the below decks, purple coat billowing in the morning breeze.

As Bill had said, it took Dipper about a day to make it to shore, a day spent in numb heartbreak and sorrow. He didn't dare allow himself to rest, even as his eyes dropped so low he was sure he'd fall unconscious if he kept them open a second longer. But he persisted, knowing that he had to get to land as soon as possible. He could sleep later, could properly think things through later. Right then, he had to survive and make it to land. Then he could rest. Then he could mourn.

Before he knew it he had spotted land, a small feeling of relief making itself known in his heart. An hour later he had reached his destination, his arms aching but his heart aching far more. He pulled his little row boat onto the beach, not sure how far he was from civilization, but not caring with how exhausted he was. Once he was far enough inland to not be caught by the tide, Dipper turned his boat over and crept underneath, falling asleep nearly the instant his head hit the sand.

Upon waking, an unknown amount of time later, Dipper hid his boat and set out in search of a town or village where he could orient himself. He didn't allow himself to think about what he had left behind. He didn't allow himself to hurt. Not until he was safe. Not until he was in a place where he could find out where he was. Not until he had an idea of how to get home. He couldn't allow himself to break down until he had done what was needed to be done.

The village he eventually found was a small one, but it seemed like a Godsend in his eyes. He was exhausted despite his short rest on the beach and he couldn't wait to at least sit somewhere comfortable.

The first villager he came across took one look at his ragged and tattered appearance, before turning tail and running. It soon became apparent as to why that was, as a couple of heart stopping minutes later a group of people came over to him, looking concerned and asking if he was alright. After telling them a brief, if highly edited, overview of what had happened- that his ship had been attacked by pirates and that he had been taken prisoner before managing to escape- the villagers took him to a house and gave him food and warm clothing to wear. When they asked about the bag, he told them that he had taken it before he had left, knowing that he would need some supplies before escaping. He hated himself for his lies, but he knew them to be necessary. No one would help him if he told the truth.

After a quick supper, he spent the night in their spare room, feeling weird sleeping on a stationary surface. On the beach he had been too tired to notice, but on this small cot it was all be could think of and it just made his heart ache, a bitter reminder of where he had come from and what he had lost. With a shuddering breath, Dipper finally released the tears he had been holding in, soft sobs filling the quiet space, unable to hold it back any longer.

In that moment he remembered everything, every touch, every kiss. He remembered the sights, the scents, the taste, the feel. He recalled everything he would miss, everything he'd never have again. He committed everything to memory, so that he'd never forget what had happened. So that he'd always remember.

Part of him was afraid, as he stared up at the ceiling of the small house he was inhabiting, that he would one day think of these memories with hatred. That he would one day think of Bill not with love, but with disgust and loathing. That he'd be poisoned away from the love he so clearly felt. It terrified him, the thought that everything that had felt so beautiful and wondrous might one day turn sour and be thought of with derision.

But then, he supposed, that was why he was remembering everything as it happened. So that there never came a day that he would forget the good that had happened on Bill's ship. He was no fool; he knew that no one would ever understand how he felt. But that did not mean that his feelings weren't real. Nor did it mean that he had deluded himself into loving Bill. If there was one thing he knew, with all certainty, it was that he loved that pirate captain. Even if it wasn't for the reasons he had once thought, even if it wasn't in a way that was healthy. Bill would forever be someone he loved. He would make sure of it.

Morning would come, as mornings always did, but Dipper was feeling determined not to let it pass him by. He would never be the same, he knew that, so he therefore would just have to make something new of himself. It would be hard, nigh impossible at times, but he would do it. If not for himself, then for Bill. So that he could be happy, like the man had said. So that he wouldn't waste away into nothing.

He may no longer be Dipper Pines. But who he was going to become would be just as good. He would make sure of it.

When his eyes finally closed, he dreamed of a beach, calm and peaceful.

With Bill at his side.

And for a moment, he could almost pretend he was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Aha. Count of hands, who saw this coming? Yeah, I went with the obvious ending here. Why? Because A) it's the only ending I think makes sense, with how the characters are in the show and B) I made it obvious for a reason. Like, I purposely foreshadowed this ending for a while now. Did I lay it on a bit thick? Yeah, but this ending had been what I wanted for a while now. Originally I had the thought of having a happy ending, with Bill and Dipper ending up together. But after writing this story, particularly the 12th chapter, I realized that there was no way this story could end with them both together and happy. Sure, Dipper could become a pirate, but he'd be utterly miserable. He'd hate himself, even possibly grow to resent Bill... It would not have been good. And Bill could have given up his life of piracy, but... Do you really think that Bill would ever give it up? No. Not for a boy he's known for only a month. He'd grow to resent Dipper and it would not work out. 
> 
> So yeah. That's my reasoning behind this ending. I hope that, despite the obvious ending, that you didn't hate it. (Also, I had originally had the thought of having two endings, this ending, and one where Dipper killed Hallow. That was part of the reason why I split the chapter where I did. If anyone is interested in that, let me know and I'll consider it. I'm not sure if I could do it, though... Dipper does not strike me as a person who would ever become a pirate. See, Bill always saw a part of himself in Dipper; I wanted there to be a parallel between the two. And yet, in the end, the difference between the two is that Dipper is not a killer. He doesn't have it in him to kill another human being. I think it would be too out of character to have Dipper kill Hallow, but if anyone is interested, I could do it. )
> 
> Last thing: I'm marking this story as complete, but rest assured, an epilogue is coming. The main story is done, though, which is why I'm marking it as complete. Tell me if there is anything in particular that you'd like to see in the epilogue. I'm already planning on including what happened to Mabel and Stan, as well as Soos and Wendy, but if there is anything that you'd like to see resolved, mention it and I'll do my best to incorporate it. I've gotten about half of the epilogue finished, but I have no idea when it'll be complete. So look out for that, sometime. 
> 
> And... that's it! This story is complete, outside of the epilogue. Thanks for reading and I hope this ending was satisfying. ^-^
> 
> Oh, one last thing, actually. I've gotten a couple of comments saying how they wish they could write, or that I inspired them to write, but that they don't think they're good enough. To that I say: Write anyway. Do you think that I have any idea what I'm doing? God no! I just sit down, at 2AM on my iPod, and write what comes to my mind. I barely plan, I just have a general Idea of what will happen. I've never even taken any classes on writing, outside of English class. You don't need to be a master to be a writer. You just need to have an idea, and from that idea you just have to write. Even if it sucks. Even if you hate it. Write anyway, because at the end of the day, at least you have gotten something down. Personally, I hate how I write- I tell and don't show, I repeat myself frequently- but I still write. Because everything I write makes me that much better. It teaches me through experience. So, if you want to write? Write. Get inspired by a song, by a TV show, by a book, and then write it down. Don't give up before you even start. Don't say "I'm not good enough" because you are. And even if you think you aren't, well, how can you get better if you do not try? 
> 
> Anyway, sorry for preaching at you. But seriously, please, write.
> 
> Wow, that was long. Aha. Whoops. Sorry.
> 
> UPDATE: So, I've gotten a couple of complaints about how this ending is anticlimactic. To that I say; hmm, it's almost like life is anticlimactic, huh? Because this story was never about being an epic novel, or whatever. It was about writing a realistic look into the effect of Stockholm Syndrome. I'm not a writer, I'm a (soon-to-be) psychologist. That was always my goal with this story. So I'm sorry if my intention wasn't clear and this seemed a bit anticlimactic, but that's how life is. Things just... end. No rhyme, no reason. They just... end. Could I have written the ending better? Probably. But please know I was incredibly sick while writing this and just wanted to be done. And I'm not a writer. I have never pretended to be a writer. So please don't leave comments about how this story sucks. Or if you're going to do that, explain why, and do it on a medium where I can reply and explain myself. I don't mind constructive criticism, but nothing is constructive about insults.


	21. When the Dust Settles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I'm back. Sorry it took so long. Fun fact, this chapter has actually been done for about 2-3 weeks now. I just didn't have the time to edit or post, since I'm graduating high school in about a month and needed to focus on all of that. Whoops. 
> 
> Anyway, the final end is here! I hope you guys like this epilogue; it's not... the best. I mean, I tried to have everything I wanted to conclude in here, but doing so made it just a little clunky. Hopefully it doesn't ruin the chapter, though. 
> 
> Oh, but one thing I was unable to fit in that people were confused by was Tad and the fact that he saw Dipper sail away. Let me clarify; Bill is not in any trouble. I added that part in to signify that Tad was letting Dipper go. See, Tad was not a bad guy, here. He actually likes Bill, since Bill is such a good captain. Tad's only issue with Dipper was that the crew was uncertain where Bill's loyalty lied anymore and Tad is the crew's representative. He had to represent their anger and confusion. But that doesn't mean he hated Dipper; rather, he felt indifferent to Dipper. He just didn't want Dipper's presence to distract Bill. Yet he knew, should Dipper die, that Bill would be furious. So it was actually in Tad's best interest for Dipper to sail away. 
> 
> Anyway, that's about it. Since this is the last chapter, in the end notes I will speak about all the little ideas I had for the story, yet could not fit in. You know, if anyone was interested. Oh, and FYI, I was considering editing this story. So, if there is anything you think should be... tuned up, please mention it. Kindly, if you could. I'll do my best to fix it up. If it's something that can be easily fixed, I mean. 
> 
> Enjoy! And thank you, sincerely, for reading this story.
> 
> EDIT: Someone else asked me a question, which reminded me of something I forgot to tell all of y'all. If anyone wants to create anything about this story, whether it be fanart, a squeal/prequel/companion piece, etc., feel free! In fact, I'd love to see it, so if you have a Tumblr, I follow the tags "Draco the Death Eating Cupcake" and "SpikeisAwesome456". Not so much "DracoMalfoy456" (My ff . net account name) but you can even tag that, if you want. If you're more of a FaceBook person, I'm there under ~Draco the Death Eating Cupcake~ as well. So yeah. ^-^

Dipper stared ahead at the wall in front of him, eyes glazed and sightless. The room around him was silent, only the quiet sounds of waves drifting in from the windows. Alone for the first time that day, Dipper let himself breathe, his body relaxing against the chaise he found himself sat in.

Four months. It had been four months since he had witnessed the death of Captain Jackson Hallow, four months since he had left the pirate ship The Nightmare. Four months since he had felt his heart get ripped in two and tossed into the waves like trash.

It still seemed like it had only been yesterday, the boy thought, leaning back in his seat. The way it felt, the way the fear and grief had flooded him. How… how his heart had shattered.

It was the afterwards that had been almost harder, however.

After making it to land, heart aching and broken, he had spent two days in that house that belonged to a group of friendly villagers. He had allowed himself to rest there, allowed himself to grieve and mourn. It had hurt, much more than he had ever thought it would. And the worst thing was, he had known why it had to happen that way, why he had to be torn from the one he loved. He never would have been able to become a pirate, would never have been able to stomach the thought of murdering anyone. Likewise, Bill never would have been able to stop being a pirate. Aside from the fact the man was wanted in several countries, it was his life. It was all he knew. Dipper could not have asked Bill to give it up, little more than Bill could have asked him to become a pirate. It might have hurt to realize, but it was the truth.

Once the two days had passed, Dipper had pushed all the thoughts of Bill away, knowing that before he could think more of Bill, he would have to find his family. He had to get on with his life, couldn't just waste away in this village house, mind stuck in past memories. That would not have been what Bill wanted for him. Therefore, Dipper had stuffed down his pain and hurt and asked for directions to the port town that his great uncle had stopped in, right before Dipper had been taken captive. He was unsure if they'd still be there or not, but it was the best place to start. The villagers informed him that he was about one hundred miles south of the port he was looking for, but that he could try and get a job at the nearest port town five miles down the road which would be able to take him at least halfway to his destination.

Thanking them, Dipper had said farewell to the villagers and went on his way, walking along the faded dirt road that led to the port town the villagers had informed him of. Upon arriving in the town, he went immediately to the pub, knowing that if he was going to search for a job that would be the best place to look.

To his luck, he found a job on board a trading ship that was stopping off thirty miles south of his destination, leaving that afternoon. He would be tasked with swabbing the deck, as well as helping with the rigging, but the boy had been certain he'd be able to do it. After all, his great uncle had taught him everything he'd need to know about sailing.

The week he had spent on the trading ship had been almost calming. It was what he had known, before. Sure, he had never actually gone up in the ropes or anything like that while on The Mystery, but he still found it soothing. His heart refused to stop aching, but the pain wasn't as intense while he worked.

When he left the trading ship, he was paid three pieces of gold, which he then used to buy himself a carriage north. He went as far as he could with his money, before walking the rest of the distance.

He had had to stop to rest once, during his trek to the port town he was searching for, his stomach growling for food. Stopping in a small pub in an equally small town, Dipper ate and rummaged through the bag Bill had given him, trying to see if he could find the last remaining piece of currency he had on him.

His had felt his heart stop dead in his chest when, instead of finding the coin, he had found a very familiar piece of paper, wrinkled and water stained, yet still distinct. With trembling hands, Dipper had unfolded the paper and stared at the poster that he had carried in his boot for weeks before it had mysteriously vanished. Suppose he finally knew where it had gone, he had thought numbly, unable to tear his eyes off the man that had invaded his heart and conquered it completely.

Everything he had been holding inside of him had exploded then, his heart aching so badly that he couldn't hold in the tears. He was very lucky that the pub owner was a nice old maid who had taken pity on the pathetic boy and allowed him to leave without paying for his lunch, saving him the mortification of sobbing in a pub. The woman had even tried asking what the matter was, trying to comfort him, but he couldn't bear to lie. So he had shaken his head and let her make her own conclusions. After that he hit the road, his heart breaking with each step he took, the poster hidden in the breast pocket of his borrowed shirt. Right over the heart he felt he no longer had.

Once on the road, Dipper had done his best to compose himself, stuffing the thoughts and feelings back inside the box he had designed for them. He couldn't deal with the pain, not while he was wandering, trying to find his way home. Later, he had promised himself. Later he would think everything through. Right then, he had to focus on getting home. That was all that mattered, at the moment. Everything else could wait.

It had taken him the better portion of the day, but he had finally arrived at his destination, an hour before the sun set. He didn't find much pleasure at his good luck, however, his heart aching too much to feel anything other than misery. He headed straight to the local pub, the same one he had went to with Wendy and her friends, all those weeks ago. It was funny, he had thought as he entered the pub, how time changed everything. It had only been a matter of weeks, yet he already was a completely different person. How silly he had been, pining after Wendy. How foolish he had been, thinking the infatuation to be love. Love was so much worse than that.

Going up to the bartender, Dipper had asked about the whereabouts of his great uncle's ship, if the man had any idea where the ship had gone. The boy had hardly been able to believe his ears when the bartender had informed him that the ship was, in fact, still in port, many members of the crew waltzing in and out every night. Heart pounding, the boy had thanked the bartender and left the pub in a daze, hands shaking against his will, hardly able to believe his luck. After all this time, he would finally be able to see his sister. After all this time, he'd finally be able to go home.

With shaking legs the boy walked to the dock and searched the ships for the one that was ingrained in his memory. He couldn't help the gasp that he released when he finally spotted it, the shabby ship looking like the finest yacht in his homesick eyes.

He had made his way over to the ship slowly, carefully, like he had been afraid that it would disappear if he went too fast. After what felt like a millennia, Dipper had made it to the gangplank, freezing at the threshold and simply staring up at the ship he had called home for over a year.

He had stood there for far too long, his mind frozen and his heart clenching. It had been too good to be true, and yet it was happening. He was there. He was home. Slowly, the boy climbed the gangplank, relishing the feel of worn wood beneath his feet.

The first person who spotted him, incidentally, had been Robbie, the older sailor nearly falling off the ship when he spotted the disheveled youth. Much to the boy's surprise, a look of utter relief had passed over the older sailor's face, a rare grin finding its way onto the usually passive face. Had someone told him two months prior that Robbie would have felt relief at his safe arrival back on The Mystery, Dipper never would have believed it, but he supposed stranger things had happened.

The sailor had then rushed over to the boy, exclaiming about something or other. Dipper had been dazed at the time, not really comprehending much of what he was being told, yet he nodded along as if he was paying attention. One thing he did retain from Robbie's babble was that apparently the whole crew had thought he was dead, the atmosphere of the ship likened to that of a funeral.  
It had been around then that more sailors started pouring over, the men having been curious as to whom Robbie had been speaking to. It honestly had surprised Dipper, just how much the crew seemed to have missed him. The grins and pats on his back were almost disconcerting to the frazzled youth, yet he did his best to bear through it. He almost had been afraid to ask the whereabouts of his sister and great uncle, his mind flooding with memories of the last he had seen the two, one bleeding profusely and the other falling off a high ship into frigid water below.

When the men had finally finished with their enthusiastic greetings, Dipper had managed to scrape up enough courage to meekly ask where Mabel was, where his sister was. The crew went silent then, making the boy's heart clench with panic that almost choked him. Before he could break down, he heard Robbie say softly that she was in their room, having locked herself in there soon after Dipper had been taken. She was still living, Robbie assured, saying that Soos and Wendy went in to see her once a day, to give her food and company. Hearing that she had locked herself away had hurt him, but he couldn't help the relief that flooded him at the news that she was still alive. Even if she was broken, at least she was alive. Broken people could always be glued back together; dead people could not.

He had rushed to their cabin soon after that, not caring what the other men did after he left them. All that mattered was Mabel. His sister. He froze outside their door, however, his mind suddenly blank and useless. What would he say to her? What would he do? He couldn't tell her the truth; she'd never forgive him for loving a pirate. But he never wanted to lie to her, not to Mabel. Long minutes had passed, the boy hovering in front of the locked door, before he numbly raised his hand, letting it fall three times against the wood. He'd figure everything else out later. Right now, he just needed to see his sister.

It had taken him knocking five more times before Mabel had replied, only letting out a small, pathetic 'go away.'

Taking a deep breath, the boy had unclogged his throat and spoke as clearly as he could, unable to help the tremble that hearing his twin's voice had caused in him.

"Mabel, it's me," was all he could utter, but it seemed to be enough. Scarcely a second later, the sound of scrambling was heard on the other side of the door, the door flinging open a second after that.

Seeing Mabel again for the first time in weeks… it had left the boy breathless. Knees weak and shaking, Dipper took in every detail of his twin's face, the sallow skin and waxy hair making his heart ache. He knew he didn't look much better, but it hurt him to see his beloved sister hurting so badly. Especially knowing that he was the cause of her pain. Before he had been able to fully prepare himself, he had found himself with an armful of his tearful sister, Mabel sobbing uncontrollably as she placed her entire weight on him. Despite how weak he felt, he supported her, leaning back against the wall when he started tipping backwards. With a shuddered breath, Dipper had felt tears begin to fall from his eyes as well, his relief at seeing his sister alive mixing with the grief that he still held in his heart.

Together, the two had spent over an hour in the hallway, clinging to one another desperately, Mabel mumbling soft words into his shoulder as she sobbed. Dipper had only been able to make out a few words, though, about how she had thought he was dead and that she had wanted to find him but that no one would let her. Later on he would find out that Soos had actually stood outside her door for weeks, stopping her whenever she tried to sneak out, wanting to prevent her from hurting herself in her quest to find her brother.

As it was, he had felt his heart break at her muffled words, clenching her closer to him, muttering his own words to try and sooth her, words about how he was there, how he was alive and okay. When she finally calmed down, he gently lifted her up, the two of them having ended up on the ground at one point, carefully guiding her back into their room. He had to suppress the desperate gasp that rose in his chest at seeing the familiar space. Even if it was a lot messier than he remembered, it was home and he had had to take several deep, even breaths to prevent himself from breaking down once more.

That first night had been rough, Mabel climbing into his bed and clutching him tightly, likely trying to make sure he wasn't going to vanish into dust. He understood, as he had done the same, trying so hard to stop the shudders that wanted to escape. He had to be the strong one, here. He didn't have the luxury of being weak anymore. When he had eventually drifted off, hours later, he dreamt of darkness, filled with the shot of a gun and the desperate screams of his twin. Not the first nightmare he had had since leaving The Nightmare, and it definitely would not be the last.

Waking in the morning had been difficult, his heart clenching with fear and panic, like it often did after his nightmares. He looked up to see chocolate eyes peering down at him with concern, mixed with relief and silent joy. He had done his best to smile at his twin, but had the feeling he had failed epically. Regardless, the two disentangled long minutes later, neither wanting to part from the other for longer than necessary. They had changed quickly, Dipper unable to stop the rush of relief that filled him at the fact he was finally wearing something that fit him that was clean. A simple comfort he hadn't ever appreciated more than at this moment.

It was then that Dipper's thoughts turned to his great uncle, his heart falling as he remembered the old man. He had wondered, then, why no one had mentioned him, why he hadn't come to find Dipper at any point in the night. He had almost asked his sister, before restraining himself, realizing that if the worst had indeed happened, it would not have been wise to remind his sister of the elder man.

He had gotten his answer, however, the moment he set foot on deck, his body getting swept up into a hug so large he almost blacked out, his lungs crushed from the strong arms wrapped around him. More tears filled his eyes when he recognized the familiar scent of Old Man, his arms wrapping around the form of his great uncle with as much fervor as his great uncle had. Long minutes had passed before his great uncle pulled back, tears falling silently from his glassy brown eyes, the first time Dipper could ever recall seeing the elder cry.

"Thought ya were dead, kiddo. Don't… don't ever do that ta me again, ya hear?" Stan had bit out, though the words held no heat. Just the same desperation that had filled Dipper the moment he had seen his sister in the clutches of pirates. Dipper had then nodded, tears falling softly from his eyes.

Later he would learn that his great uncle had been injured far more than he would ever admit, Bill's gash cutting deep into Stan's gut. It had taken him weeks to recover, leaving him bed ridden and delirious for all that time. That was the reason, he would learn, why no one had tried to find him. The crew had written him off as dead, his sister had been too emotionally unstable to organize a rescue, and Soos and Wendy had been busy taking care of the remaining Pines'. Not to mention the fact that the ship had been damaged greatly in the fight against Bill, the fire Dipper had thought he had seen singeing a good portion of the ship. Learning that had laid to rest any residual bitterness the boy had felt at the thought that no one had been searching for him. It hadn't been their fault.

After that first day, where Stan and Mabel had refused to leave Dipper's side for even a second, his sister glued firmly to him, things slowly but surely began to return to normal. A week after his return, Stan had been deemed healthy enough to sail and, after making sure Dipper was okay with it, set sail for another business deal. Dipper had found it strangely soothing, the routine that he had grown used to over the year making his heart ache just a little less.

That being said, it still hurt him, when he was alone and given with the chance to think. Luckily, those moments were few and far between. The boy hardly was able to find a second for himself, in between Mabel, Stan, Soos and Wendy, even occasionally Robbie or one of the other sailors. The crew at large had seemed to come to a unanimous conclusion that Dipper should not be alone, something the boy hadn't complained about. Being alone hurt.

Even now, four months later, the boy still felt that keen ache inside of him. Biting his lip, Dipper leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. Four months, and it still felt like it had been yesterday. Four months and he had yet to find out who he was now, now that Dipper Pines had been destroyed.

One thing that had been particularly arduous, over that four months, had been trying to fit back into this life. Sometimes it had been easy, muscle memory allowing him to laugh with Soos, joke with Wendy. Other times, though, it had felt almost impossible. Like he was an outsider, like he was a ghost inhabiting this body. Like he didn't belong.

It was especially clear, in moments like this, sitting in his room alone. No distractions, nothing to occupy his mind other than the ache, the empty space Bill had left behind. His captain. His heart. Time had not changed how he had felt about Bill. Yet he didn't regret leaving. With Bill, he never would have been truly happy. He could see that, now, as he stared sightlessly at the ceiling. He always would have been afraid, perhaps even growing to be resentful. Here… here, he could learn to move on. Oh, it would always hurt. He'd never be the same again. He knew that. But he could learn to live with that. And he could learn to be happy again, one day. He hoped.

The one thing he did regret was that he couldn't save Bill. That he couldn't find a way to get Bill to give up his life of piracy. Maybe, had he had more time, had he been in a better place mentally, he could have. Could have shown Bill there was more to life than anger and murder. Bill had a lot of anger inside of him, Dipper had always known that. Perhaps… perhaps one day his captain would be able to find a way to deal with it. Perhaps one day Bill could be happy, too.

The thought made Dipper smile, a small, sad smile reserved solely for thoughts of Bill. Slowly, Dipper closed his eyes, picturing his captain in his mind's eye. He still had the poster, in the breast of his shirt. He carefully transferred it every day into his new shirt, never wanting to be far from it. It reminded him of everything they had been through. Everything the boy would never be able to forget.

Lost in his thoughts, the boy did not hear the door to his cabin creak open, nor did he hear the soft creaks across the wooden floor.

"Dipper?" A soft voice called, causing the boy's eyes to fly open, his heart pounding from surprise and mild fear. When his eyes fell upon the visage of his twin, he forced himself to take deep, even breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. Putting a smile on his face, only the slightest bit false, Dipper sat up straight.

"Hey, Mabel! Done with your chores?" The boy questioned, watching his sister's face intently. Mabel had been reluctant to leave him for their chores, that morning. She always was, nowadays.

"Yep. Just wanted to check up on you. Dinner is in ten minutes, you know," Mabel replied, trying her best to smile back, yet not quite making it. She was getting better, though. Dipper had the feeling that, given a few more months, she might be almost back to normal. One could only hope.

"Oh, that's great. I, uh, was starting to feel hungry."

Dipper was beginning to feel awkward, as he always did when he talked to people for longer than a minute or two. After a month of only speaking to Bill, it was difficult to fit back into a rhythm with other people. It was like in the time he had been away, he had completely forgotten all of his social skills. Before his heart could start to fill with panic, his mind worrying about his recent ineptitude, Mabel smiled at him, a true one.

"Oh, well, I was wondering if you'd like to go… to go watch the sunset with me? I know you like to do that! So, we should do that," Mabel nodded, trying to portray her usual confidence. It looked forced, to Dipper's eyes, but he didn't comment on it. If she was trying, he certainly wouldn't ruin it. Besides, he didn't have much right to comment on it. Not when everything he did now was forced.

"Uh, sure! I'd, uh, like that," he replied, and it wasn't even a lie. He loved the sunset. It was when the stars began to show up, peeking out of the sunlit sky. Plus, he'd get to spend time with Mabel. Even four months later he hated being apart from her for longer than necessary.

"Great! Let's go!" Mabel chimed, spinning and marching over to the doorway, waiting for him to join her. With a barely audible sigh, Dipper tore himself out of his chair and joined her, smiling lightly when she smiled at him. Together the two walked down the hall and up the ladder, blinking in the soft sunlight. Mabel walked over to the side of the ship, where Dipper loved to sit and ponder life.

As Dipper went to join her, he passed Soos, the larger man smiling widely at him. Dipper couldn't help but stop and smile back, feeling a flash of affection for the man. He still remembered how Soos had broken down into tears and hugged Dipper tightly when the two had been reunited. Soos had said he hadn't believed Dipper to be dead, that he had even gotten into contact with naval officers to try and get a rescue for him, which had made Dipper incredibly grateful. Even if it hadn't panned out, it made him feel like he hadn't been forgotten.

Wendy had been similar, the boy remembered, looking up at the helm, where he could see the silhouette of his former infatuation. She hadn't broken down into tears, but tears had fallen softly, the woman crouching and hugging him tightly. Funny, how a month before that he would nearly have passed out from excitement, yet he had felt nothing more than relief to be home. It was a testament of how he had changed, he thought. Wendy, too, had attempted to find him, yet had been unable to look herself, as she lacked a ship and had needed to look after Stan and Mabel. He hadn't blamed her for her decision to stay with his sister. It was what he would have wanted.

He was jolted out of his thoughts once more when Mabel called out to him, the girl looking at him with concerned eyes. Smiling sheepishly, he shuffled over to where she stood, leaning against the railing, seeing his sister do the same out of his peripheral. Silence reigned for a while, before Mabel cleared her throat.

"You do that a lot, lately," she stated, eyes staring directly ahead, avoiding Dipper's eyes. Dipper turned slightly to face her, frowning.

"Do what?"

"Stop. You stop and just… get lost in thought. Like you're somewhere else."

Dipper stared at her, seeing the way she hunched her shoulders, looking smaller than she really was. It made his heart ache.

"I'm sorry. I-I don't mean to," he replied honestly, knowing what she was talking about and hating it. For a while after he had returned he would stop and remember something that had happened while on Bill's ship, causing him to stop dead. It had happened less frequently lately, yet he still occasionally did it, as lost in his thoughts as he was. This was one of the lesser moments that he had had, but it was still an issue he was dealing with. And it seemed that Mabel was worrying about it, which was never something he wanted.

"I know. I just want to make sure you're okay, Dip. You don't speak about what happened and I'm… I'm worried."

Dipper nodded seriously, before looking out at the ocean, the sun casting an orange haze over the world. He wanted to tell her, about everything. He wanted to open up, let her know. Yet he knew he never could. She'd never understand. Oh, she'd try. Of course she would try, but she would never succeed. And he didn't want to put his sister in a position where she felt uncomfortable with him. And yet he also couldn't lie and tell her he was fine. That, he felt, would be even worse.

So he kept quiet, ignored her obvious request at information and continued to stare at the setting sun. He could feel her gaze on him for several minutes before she averted her eyes.

One day it would be better, he hoped. It wouldn't be this awkward, this hard to adapt. He'd be able to think of Bill and it wouldn't hurt him. He'd be able to move on.

One day.

~XoxoxoxoxoxoX~

Unbeknownst to him, leagues away, another was staring out at this very ocean, thinking similar thoughts. Clad in yellow and black, fearsome Captain William "Bill" Cipher stood at the edge of his deck, thinking of a boy who had the stars on his forehead and a claim on said captain's heart.

Similar to the boy on his mind, the captain had not had an easy time adapting. Oh, he fought, he grinned; he won back the respect and fear of his crew. It was fairly easy, all things considered, to talk off Dipper's departure. The boy had caught him off guard and ran in the night. The crew had been wary, at first, but had felt that letting it go would bring them more gold in the future. All things considered, it had been easy, fitting back into the role of fearsome pirate captain.

But at night... at night, when lying in his bed, or while at the helm, with nothing but ocean ahead of him, he could not stop the thoughts. The longing, the yearning. The heartache that plagued him felt like it would almost consume him at times, the disgust and self-loathing not far behind. But what he felt the disgust at, he was unsure. His feelings, or his lifestyle?

It mattered not, though, as he had made his choice. Thinking of leaving piracy… not only would he have to deal with the law, but he would have to deal with the devil that lived inside of him. It screamed for blood, so blood he fed it. If the blood ran dry… he truly did not know what would happen.

Somedays he did think of it, though. What life would be like, away from the sea. On an island, with Dipper, no outside world, no demons or pirates. Just him and the one he, possibly, loved. It seemed… nice. In a distant way. Like a dream; there to entice yet never to come true.

So a dream it would stay, the man thought, staring at the sea of orange flames. And he was not one to dwell on dreams. What happened had happened. And what they had would never be had again.

But life would go on.

They both would grow, change, become better- or worse- people. And maybe, one day, they would meet again. Maybe, once they had finished growing and becoming, they'd meet on a beach somewhere, sun setting in the horizon, choirs singing as their eyes meet.

Or maybe they wouldn't. Maybe their story had ended. Maybe they would meet other people, fall in love, start a family with someone else. Maybe what they had had was just a small pit stop. A bump in the road. Something to be remembered but never held.

So they would not let this end them, they thought together, staring at the same ocean, miles and miles apart. They would let themselves grow. They would become who they were going to become.

And they would remember.

Forever, they would remember.

* * *

 

Bonus picture:  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Hope you liked the chapter. 
> 
> As promised, here are some ideas I had, yet could not fit into the story.
> 
> 1\. Stan was once a pirate. His story in this mostly followed his story in the show, simply in olden day form. Stan messed up Ford's marine science business endeavor with the King, got kicked out of his house, and took to a life of piracy to make ends meet. He quit, however, when he realized he couldn't kill anyone and no new ship would take him. Then Ford went missing, leaving behind his kind of shabby sailing vessel, which Stan took and turned into a merchant ship selling oddities to various port towns while trying to find his missing brother. This (Stan being a pirate) was hinted at with the dagger that Stan gave Dipper in the second chapter; Stan got it during a raid, which is why it was so ornate. 
> 
> 2\. The 3rd Journal was originally going to be in this story. Dipper was going to find it in that bookstore in the second chapter, which is why I put so much time into writing that scene. The Journal was going to be one of three, the other two owned by Bill, who was going to try and find buried treasure with it (instead of building a portal the three journal combined to make a map). I scrapped that idea, however, when realizing how convoluted it was. Dipper just so happened to find the same journal that Bill needed to find buried treasure? And by that point I had already commented the idea of how Dipper was going to be captured in my head, so they would have met completely by chance. It just... wouldn't have worked and would have become less of a story about Bill and Dipper and more a story about treasure hunting. So I scrapped the idea and went with a simple Stockholm Syndrome story. 
> 
> 3\. In correspondence with the last tidbit, Ford was originally going to be in this story. After putting the three journals together, they would sail to the area the treasure was located and would have found Ford... somehow. Hadn't quite worked out how Ford would fit into the story, but I had wanted him in there. But instead I'm just left to assume that Ford is living on an island somewhere, Robinson Crusoe style, waiting for Stan to rescue him.
> 
> 4\. The reason Dipper had a Pine Tree shirt instead of hat or bandanna was mostly because I didn't want to steal/borrow an idea I had read in a different fanfiction, thus creating a correlation between the two stories in the minds of anyone who had read the same story I had read. But Dipper still needed a pine tree design, so that Bill could call him Pine Tree. Thus, Pine Tree shirt.
> 
> 5\. Again in the second chapter, Dipper was originally going to run into Bill at the pub. I even have the beginning of that scene written, where right after leaving the pub, Wendy realizes that she lost her favorite bandanna. Dipper, the gentleman he is, offered to get it for her and then ran into Bill while looking for it. However, I ran into the issue of "why was Bill in a pub in a pirate hating port town when he's supposed to be a feared pirate captain and therefore likely has a bunch of wanted posters up?" So I got rid of that idea and instead had the wanted poster. But that was why the pub scene had so much build up; Bill was supposed to make his entrance there. 
> 
> And... that's about it. Hope that this was interesting to at least a couple of you. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you all have a wonderful life! ^-^


	22. Update: Mini Sequel

Hey all! 

So, just letting you all know, this story now has a sequel. Well, kind of. It’s one chapter long and it kind of is just an additional epilogue. People have been asking me for the past year to write something, and I finally decided to. But it’s not happy. 

Now, I still think that you all should be able to have your own ending, which is why I'm posting it as a second story and not adding it to this one. So feel free to ignore my sequel and keep your own endings in mind. But for those of you who want a concrete ending, who want to know how I think this story ends, feel free to read, comment, or whatever you want. It’s called A Pirate’s End. 

Thank you all for taking the time to read this story, and maybe one day I will edit it and make it all nice and neat, but probably not for a while. Until then, I’m glad you all were able to find some enjoyment from my writing. 

Thanks, and farewell,

~Katie.


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